COM417
Today: The culmination of too many work-soaked weekdays in a given recess week. I should have a nap but my thoughts demand relentless attention. Fatigue, as demonstrated by the past few days, grows in exponential increments. Funny how I had an awesome first half of the sem until right before midterm break rolled around. Fighting the morning crowd to get to school today amidst glorious weather that was conceived for the sole purpose of lullabies and sleep-ins puts things into perspective - this is how hard one works for a story. Because some sick combination of resolve, work ethic and peer pressure dictates that any less won’t cut it.
Multiple ring-bound notebooks filled with the hastily scrawled words of interviewees scatter across my table. As much as I complain, I’m always ready for a new one. I think the post-interview high is a large part of the reason I keep at it, the glorious five minutes I allow myself to linger in, going over the quote-worthy parts of an interview in my head, riding out the wave of adrenaline I always run on. My first rejection in a long while today means goodbye 100% hit rate, though I should know better than to expect infallibility.
This is all in me and there is no opt-out clause. Was there ever?
