the navel times and observer

I really do hate Saturdays. It's the day of the week where I walk into the newsroom with a very limited idea of how to put out even a smidgen of the damn newspaper and I always walk out late unless somebody else has put the damn thing together for me.

I really do hate it. I knew coming in, sure, that I didn't know shit about designing a newspaper and more than two months after taking the job I still know shit about designing a newspaper.

At the end of the night, well, the start of the morning, I'm screaming curses at the computers, the walls, myself, whatever's in sight really because constantly I get myself stuck in a situation where I've more or less just forgotten about the damn deadline.

Unfortunately, however, the newspaper is still fucking rife with errors.

I scream over it, worry over it, curse at it and I still turn in a miserable fucking product for all that work.

I still can't believe I get paid to fuck up newspapers.

On the plus side I have a three day weekend coming up and I'm going to use that to go up to the huge family reunion which is always a good time. Unfortunately I begin my work week on Wednesday, which leaves me one day fewer than a normal week before another damn Saturday.