Panic

It's that time of year again. The time of year when no amount of holiday lattes, candy cane ice cream or twinkly lights can brighten my mood. The time of year when I bypass mothers with strollers who need help down the stairs. (I'm still sorry about that one.)

There are two weeks left in the semester, and I might pull out all of my own hair before its over. (And write a 1000-word participant observation piece about the experience.) I'm out of story ideas, out of interview questions, out of quality red wine.

Where can I turn?

Can I be a J1000 TA forever? The time commitment is 10 hours a week. I enjoy it. It's interesting. It pays enough to feed me.

Can I start a gourmet grilled cheese sandwich shop? There's currently no quality food on campus. I could unleash my creativity with avocado and chili from 11:30 am. I could eat my own product.

Can I become a telemarketer? I have experience being charming over the phone. All those minutes that I currently pay for would become billable company time. I'd have health and dental benefits.

Dear Santa, please find me a better topic for my 1200-word analytical feature than the downfall of journalism/myself?