One of my favorite perspectives is on a bike. Riding around the city at a reasonable pace you catch glimpses of peoples lives, get some exercise, and the satisfaction of ringing a little bell at people.

My lack of distinction between a busy, underpaid freelancer and a semi-busy, way underpaid general assignment reporter was exactly what got me the interview.

Too often I find that no matter how I try to shape a story, or what I want to include, it forms organically and something good gets lost in the mix.

A couple of months ago, the articles I wrote for my local paper stopped getting edited and I began to worry about the quality of my work.

I wanted to survive on freelancing, even if it meant only eating rice and hot sauce and creating a permanent ass imprint on my couch.

That’s when I became a sweatshop worker.