Friday, June 10, 2011

The Many Lives of...

OK it's 7.43pm now and I am still in the office. The first time I've stayed this late. Why? Cos it's Friday. You stay late on Friday to close pages. But I'm all done. My stories have been cleared and my pages (such as they are) are closed.

So I get my first byline tomorrow. Which is always a yay moment for any reporter. And I have a tentative date at Backyard on Monday. With contacts (takes me back to NST days, oh death in life, the days that are no more).

I can go home, take Arnold out for his walkies and then chill. Maybe watch a little Big Bang. Maybe ask Chubs if he wants to go out for a movie.

I have a little notebook with story ideas for Monday's meeting. Yay! I was worried about story ideas...but it seems that sitting down and reading the paper gives them to me.

Also calling contacts and chatting with them over the phone and having a little gossip. They now say, oh dear, you're a reporter again now, I have to be careful what I say. And then they proceeded to not be. Which is great. Spill those beans, baby, spill 'em, spill 'em.

I had a really awful drink (nice company, awful bar, godawful drink, more so for Addy who asked for rum and got bacardi instead - that tasted like cough mixture). We went to Rainforest because Mark was singing. He had a lump in his throat - so short sets. Also, he couldn't sing his usual numbers because the Rainforest crowd favours loud loud music (the kind that makes you cover your ears and run).

Never mind. Backyard on Monday. And since it will be a semi-work thing, schmoozing with contacts, I don't have to feel guilty about it.

Thing about work. It tends to take over your life. But I don't mind it when I'm in the press. I only mind if I'm anything else.

Nam sayin?


Anonymous said...

Fascinating. The life of a journalist sounds like such an interesting and sordid affair, providing lots of opportunities to study people (and to the extent that knowledge is transferable, learn more about oneself).

Jenn said...

Yeah. But having been at it since I was 19, it's the only life I know. Everything else seems strange and foreign and just plain wrong. Except studying at university that is. That, I took to, like dolphin to hoops.

Anonymous said...

As much as you love to read, I'm surprised you did not stay on at the university and eventually join the faculty. With enough creative grant writing, you could get paid to read! Heaven and bliss. Dr. Jenn, paging Dr. Jenn...

Jenn said...

There is nothing I would have loved better. Seriously!