I’m a journalist. Word.

I was strutting my stuff the other day walking to an event. I was wearing my best dress, my heels made a satisfying clack, clack sound, I had a camera slung over my shoulder, a yellow legal plan grasped in my fist and my press pass was swinging happily.

I felt good.

And for some reason, the song “Big Poppa” by the Notorious B.I.G. was going through my head on a loop.

Throw your hands in the air, if you’s a true player!

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