Dreams and work

I had a weird dream last night that I had gone back to work for the newspaper. It was pretty vivid, too, with me coming into the office and taking back my editor spot at both papers, with the current editor sputtering and freaking out that I had returned.

Now, as much as I loved being a reporter, I am very happy where I am. When I left the paper, I was nervous to start over somewhere else. On top of that, there was the "sell-out factor." If you leave journalism to take a job in PR, you're seen as a sell-out by those still in the newspaper business. Now that I'm on the other side, I see it as an expansion of what I had been doing.

The other point is that Gannett, where I used to work, is in rough financial shape. They're cutting jobs left and right, and there will be more cuts coming by the end of the months. I have the utmost respect for (most) of my former co-workers and I wish them the best, but I can't work someplace that isn't stable.

In dreamland, however, it's fun to go back and hassle the newsroom ...

Naps are good

Difficult meeting today – mainly because I couldn't keep my eyes open.

We had been shooting a video most of the day, and sitting down after 7 hours of walking around hit pretty hard. When I wasn’t in on the discussion, I tried to play with my phone or find something else to distract me.

It didn’t work, though, and I dozed off a few times during the course of the meeting. Hopefully, not too many people noticed. It’s not like I did the full-out snoring (like a certain editor I used to work with), so I’m hoping it wasn’t too obvious.

If it was, I’m sure my fellow Communications Office staffer will be glad to let me know on Monday morning.

Yard sales

(The following is a true story.)

A few years ago, my mom, my sister, my aunt and my cousin spent a day together shopping, eating and hitting yard sales. After consuming a few "pops," they were walking through the neighborhood and came upon a home with all sorts of items on the lawn.

Dressers, clocks, lamps, clothes ... there was a huge selection to look at. While they roamed the yard, they didn't really see anything they liked, but kept looking. They not-so-quietly cattily chatted back and forth ("who would want this?" ... "no, I don't like that at all" ... "what is that?" ..."oh, maybe I'd offer a dollar for it" ... "who'd buy any of this stuff? it's crap") while inspecting - and dissecting - every single item.

While they were looking through the belongings, the woman who owned the house was watching them from the porch. When they finally found something to buy, they took it up to her, asking how much she wanted for it.

The woman glared at the four of them. Her only response: "We're not having a yard sale. We're moving."

They haven't gone yard-saling since.

Trash and treasure

Yesterday, I spent the day cleaning around the house. I took a day off from work because I knew the "to do" list just wouldn't get done over the weekend. Except for the distraction of a "Stargate SG1" marathon on Sci Fi, I did a pretty good job at staying on task.

As I cleaned out the basement (picking up the last wrecked casualties of a recent mini-flood), I tossed out an old NESCO roaster. It was a bit dusty and cobwebbed, and it was missing the temperature knob on the front. I put it out to the road with a pile of other things for the next day's garbage pick-up. About 15 minutes later, when I was going to my car, I noticed the roaster was gone. Someone had stopped, looked at my pile of garbage, and decided it looked like a good deal.

Now, I don't begrudge anyone for taking it. It just felt odd to have someone take it from my yard like that (even though it was being thrown away) and so quickly after I put it out there (like they had been watching to see what goodies I didn't want). Strangely, they didn't take the broken garden hose that I also tossed out.

Thankfully, I don't know many of my neighbors and probably won't be invited over for a potluck. That would be awkward: "Hey, that roaster looks familiar ... why is there a painted bottle cap where the knob should be?"

Life without carbonation

I've been pop-free for 8 days.

Sure, it may seem like a small thing to some people, but it's really a big deal for me. No pop, no Slurpees, no mixed drinks. For those not familiar with "pop," perhaps you call it "soda" or "cola" - or some other weird variation on the theme. It's supposed to be called pop, for the record.

This past weekend, I drank about 10 to 12 glasses of water each day. I didn't really want it, but it kept me from bolting from the house and sticking my mouth under the fountain pop machine at the QD around the corner. The allure of hi fructose corn syrup is strong. Once she's got you hooked, she's a hard mistress to turn away. A dab of syrup, some all-forgiving carbonation and a pinch of flavor ... it's like the nectar of the gods. (And, in the case of the beloved Dr. Pepper, a pinch of 23 flavors. Mmmm....)

But, I'm on the end of the withdrawal. The shakes and cravings have stopped, and I'm not sitting in the parking lot of QD/Speedway/7-11 wondering if I can down a 44 oz. pop before I get home anymore. It will take a few more weeks to make sure that I've completely kicked the habit, but I'm hopeful I'll be strong enough this time.

What's the next poor eating habit I need to kick? Not sure ... I think one a season is the limit for me. Maybe I'll try to do away with chips in the fall.

Posture

I have bad posture when I'm sitting in a chair.

I never really noticed it while I was at the paper. I would sit on the edge of my seat at council/board meetings, ready to bolt as soon as the closing gavel hit the table. There was always a deadline looming (well, as much as there is for a weekly paper) or another meeting to run off to cover. When I was in the newsroom, I would fidget in my chair or see how far back I could lean and somehow balance evenly. Yes, I tend to get easily distracted.

Sitting in meetings now, I find myself still sitting like that, as if I have a deadline to hit. I'm in PR, and there's no real rush nowadays - and I have to remind myself that I have to stay for the entire meeting. No fake cell phone calls to get me out anymore.

Yesterday, I looked around to see how other people were sitting. Apparently, I was the only one in the room sitting like a basketball coach, ready to jump up at the next bad call from the ref. I tried to sit up, using the entire seat, with my back fully against the back of the chair and shoulders straight. That felt really weird, though, and I ended up slouching down again without realizing it.

I wonder if I can use some educational credits to enroll in a posture class ...

Missed reunions and photos

Well, my high school reunion was last weekend. I didn't go, but the organizers did send a "reunion update" book via e-mail. I missed the deadline to give an update on what I've been doing for the last 20 years, but it was nice to read about a lot of my classmates.

Surprisingly, many of them look the same as they did in high school. Well, at least to me - I might be seeing them as they were, though, instead of how they look now. That makes me wonder if they'd see me as I was 20 years ago or if they'd see me as I really look now. (I'm not sure if that's me being introspective or just a stray thought because I'm starving right now.)

Or maybe they just have really good Photoshop skills they utilized before submitting their photos.