It’s the
end of the week. How does that feel that’s different now from all the other
end-of-weeks when I was working full-time? I wrote the other day about what I
love and what I hate about this job. This is a different question.
This past
week has been like a time capsule. Can I still keep on top of all the many
pieces that go into the magazine, and keep them moving so we can meet the
deadline for the printer? There is always a moment on closing day, Friday, when
I have to be doing three things at once: today it was double-checking the page
proofs of one of the main features, finishing off two different color pages,
and rewriting table of contents entries when one story dropped out and a new
one was put in. This week was relatively easy; no major stories came in late; no
editors disappeared when they were needed.
And I feel
nothing but relief that I do not have to go back next week and go through the
process all over again. Next week, I can stay home, do some freelance work at
my leisure, write, go for a walk, do some cooking, all at my leisure. And read
the New York Times for as long as I like in the morning. Now that’s luxury.
Any day where one can spend it sitting around reading the NY Times is a true luxury! (I snuck in about a half hour tonight on my NYT app. But it's not the same as holding the paper, is it?)
ReplyDelete(finally figured out how to reply to my commenters) no, the app is nothing at all like the physical paper. On the app, I always think I must be missing something,
ReplyDelete