I’ve been to the Red Cross. The fire department. Town Hall. Written five stories. I’ve edited a few others. Filed freelance payment paperwork. Talked to some sources. My back hurts. I’m tired. And I’m not done yet. There’s a Board of Education meeting tonight, and it won’t be an easy one. There proposed school budget is on the agenda. Redistricting is still a swirling controversy.
I’d like to say this is unusual, but it’s not. My days are long, sometimes very long. And today is the first of three long days. Tomorrow night’s Township Committee. Wednesday night is a neighborhood meeting about a synagogue they’re opposing. Not to mention it’s going to snow/sleet tonight. Thursday and Friday might be better, but that could change at any moment.
Such is the life of a mobile journalist, a community journalist.
The funny part is I didn’t leave the apartment today until after 1 p.m. (I had a 2 p.m. meeting) in an effort to do some housework. But the dishes are still piled in the sink. The laundry still needs to be put away. The phone rang. Stories needed to be written or posted. Before I knew it, it was almost noon and I had just showered.
I wish I could say I have never known it any other way, but I had a taste of what it’s like outside this life. I had a job where I was in the office at 9:30 a.m. and got to leave around 6 (although I was typically there somewhat later). I know what it’s like to have a night life, to be able to schedule dinner with friends or to go to make plans to see a sporting event.
Which way is better? I’m not sure. It would be nice to have my nights back, but this is the type of journalism that fulfills me and feeds my soul. But then again it burns me out easily. It’s like the candle flame. It’s pretty to look at and will warm you, but get too close and you’ll get burned.