|This morning Scott made a man-sized breakfast and Doc was digging in.|
uesday already, wow.
I thought time was flying when I worked 30 hours a week, and even 20.
These few extra hours would seem crazier, except that I've had Wednesdays off, which gives me a day in the middle of the week to catch up and get ahead, both. Then Tuesday feels like Friday (Already
???), and when the weekend actually does arrive on Friday, it's as if — Already
??? !!! Feels like hardly working at all.
To be honest, the work doesn't seem like work. Right now, it's play.
Before starting at the news office, I committed to filling half a table at the Xmas farmers' market this weekend. So I'm making caramel corn every night this week in order to be ready. But just tonight I realized that I don't want to run myself ragged by always having something I have to do
. I'll prepare for and attend the market this weekend, and that's the end of it for me. I need my down time.
And now, off to bed for some reading. You'd think I'd've had enough reading for one day, wouldn't you? after another production day at the newspaper. But no. There is never too much reading. As a matter of fact, I'm looking forward to reading about newspaper-making, tonight: how to edit for smalltown newspapers, write good headlines, come up with catchy leads, that sort of thing. Lots to learn, and all interesting.
At the office itself I've got my head down, getting things done; but I'm also listening to my co-workers as they talk, immersing myself in the existing sensibilities of the place. How do they decide what goes into the paper? How do they approach local events? How do they respond to questions from the public? I'm all ears, all eyes. Conversations in the office aren't a distraction for me, as they sometimes are for others; I thrive on the buzz of activity; it's warm and it helps me focus.
You might think that makes me a successful multi-tasker, but alas no. Emil phoned while I was stirring sauce for caramel corn on top of the stove, and apparently I can't think and talk at the same time because when normally I'd set the timer for a five-minute boil, tonight I set it for 15 and nearly burnt the stuff before realizing my mistake. Cooking and visiting don't go together for me. You win some, you lose some, I guess.