Monday, February 15, 2010

President's Day

Today is a national holiday. It is the date of birth of our first president, George Washington, and I guess now it's to celebrate all presidents. Not that we actually celebrate. No, it's merely an excuse for schools to close and some work places. It's up to each job's discretion. This includes the design firm my sister works at, Dad's job, HP, and because my mom works as a sign language interpreter at a school, she's off, too.

And that means, while my parents slept late and enjoyed the cool, silky slumber of sleep, I was pressing the snooze button on my alarm until the last minute, and finally arose at 7:30 a.m. to get to work by 8:17. Because I work at a newspaper. And newspaper never close. Never. I think it would take an earthquake sheering the building in half, and even then, they might try to salvage a couple of the computers, install them in a nearby coffee shop, and order everyone to task. Because that one time that we had maybe three feet of snow and schools were closed and no one could get out of their driveways to go to work and I thought I actually had a day off? That day my work came to collect me in a big truck.

And to add insult, this has been a weird morning.

My co-worker, a fellow newsroom assistant, had two walk-in obituaries before 10 a.m. (not usual), and one of them was very odd. Eleanor got more and more anxious and, as a third man headed up the stairs, she barked at me, "I'm going on break!"

"I got it," I said, and handled the man's obituary. He wanted it printed in our paper and our sister brother, which meant some phone calls and financial maneuvering.

I transcribed our phone-in line, which we print daily, and annoys me no end because, wow these people are whiny. Obama and roads and 'when are those roads going to be cleared of ice?' and 'I attended this amazing high school orchestra and it's too bad nothing was put in the paper about it...' which I took personally because I'm the one who puts stuff in the paper but if I haven't received information about it, it's not going to appear because I'm certainly not omniscient.

And then my sister calls and says she just had a cozy lunch with her husband at a sushi place and I said, "hope you're enjoying your day off" and went back to typing up briefs for the calendar page.

And on my lunch break, I worked out to "Bollywood Burn" with another co-worker, a reporter. We bounced and twirled and definitely burned. That was great. Except I'd already eaten a brownie layered with marshmallow and caramel; two pieces of peanut brittle; a heart-shaped chocolate andes mint cookie and a chocolate-caramel bar of some sort because it's the day after Valentine's and there's a contest for the best baked goods.

So maybe I came out even, calorie-wise?

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