Saturday, July 28, 2007
Ew, girl, you funky
As I type, I'm currently entering my 12th hour of work today.I had to travel to Middleboro, Mass. this morning to cover the town meeting where residents decided to approve an agreement with the local Native American tribe to build a casino in town.
Great story. But I had to stand outside. In the sun. All day.
Saturday shifts are a witch, I tell ya.
Among the highlights of my day:
*waking at 5:45 a.m., drive an hour, to get to my assignment at 7:30 a.m.
*using a Port-A-Potty for the first time in my life (not an experience I'd like to make a regular occurrence)
*forgetting sunblock and ending up at least 3 shades darker
*Being herded into a "media area" by the local police, where residents took the opportunity to snap our pictures like we were a zoo exhibit.
*Getting eaten by a number of ants who happened to live in the grass where I sat near the speakers podium
*Shagging this quote from a white resident: "I'm a Native American. I was born here. I live here."
*Waiting while officials hand counted the votes of the 3,722 residents who attended the meeting. (they stopped when they reached 725 supports, a 2/3rds majority over the number of opponents)
*Sweating.
I am dead dog tired. Some newsroom friends have come up to me, making jokes, asking me why I'm still here because they knew I was working days today. I couldn't help it, but I gave them the stare of death and they slowly backed away. Then I went back to typing.
I'm waiting to be edited so I can get up and out this piece.
So ready for this day to be over so I can take a shower. I smell like all of outdoors. Sigh.
Note: I finally left the office at 9:20 p.m. -- after working for a total of 14 hours straight.
Labels: burnout, musings, the industry
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Consider yourself blessed to have made it this far in life without ever having to use a port-a-potty.