One part down. Two to go. And then Finals.
I relearned a lesson today that I've had handed to me many a time before: No matter how much time you have for a story, it is never enough. No exceptions.
I've spent the past four weeks working on a series that explores the background of the Athletic department here at K-State. I've done a dozen or so interviews lasting more than ten hours combined, four of those hours with one source.
Part one of the series runs tomorrow. It's a look into the entire budget of the athletic department, and I've written and re-written it several times now. There is no room for error on this thing, if I screw up and make the department look bad without cause, I just might be murdered by an angry horde of wildcat fans in the morning. With pom-poms. And charcoal grills. And sharp, purple objects.
I've interviewed many a person for this sucker, including President Wefald a few weeks ago as well as Tim Weiser, Athletic Director, this afternoon. All have been good people whom I have enjoyed speaking with, but I must say that when the last part of this series runs next Thursday I just might collapse, or run around the campus tackling people and introducing myself as the eggman. Or the Walrus. Coo-Coo. Ka-choo.
I'm interviewing a bunch of people on dialysis in the morning for an assignment in MC 690 Medical Reporting. I have an A in that class, can you believe it. In fact, I may have three or more As in my classes this semester. The jury is still out, but for once in my life it appears I've actually gotten my s___ together. Who'd have thought?
Anyway, I'm sitting in the newsroom right now listening to REM with the occasional replaying of "Under Pressure" by Queen and David Bowie. You know, that song about stress and all with lots of skat bursts that make you want to scream along with the band. If I weren't surrounded by my busy colleagues, who are likely wondering why I am banging my head so much, I would scream along.
"BE BE DAT BOM! BE BE DE DAT DOM!" I'd yell, putting all living creatures in earshot on notice that I am worn out, I am stressed and I could not sing to save my life.
That is all. Go back to your business. Nothing more to see here. Until later.
I've spent the past four weeks working on a series that explores the background of the Athletic department here at K-State. I've done a dozen or so interviews lasting more than ten hours combined, four of those hours with one source.
Part one of the series runs tomorrow. It's a look into the entire budget of the athletic department, and I've written and re-written it several times now. There is no room for error on this thing, if I screw up and make the department look bad without cause, I just might be murdered by an angry horde of wildcat fans in the morning. With pom-poms. And charcoal grills. And sharp, purple objects.
I've interviewed many a person for this sucker, including President Wefald a few weeks ago as well as Tim Weiser, Athletic Director, this afternoon. All have been good people whom I have enjoyed speaking with, but I must say that when the last part of this series runs next Thursday I just might collapse, or run around the campus tackling people and introducing myself as the eggman. Or the Walrus. Coo-Coo. Ka-choo.
I'm interviewing a bunch of people on dialysis in the morning for an assignment in MC 690 Medical Reporting. I have an A in that class, can you believe it. In fact, I may have three or more As in my classes this semester. The jury is still out, but for once in my life it appears I've actually gotten my s___ together. Who'd have thought?
Anyway, I'm sitting in the newsroom right now listening to REM with the occasional replaying of "Under Pressure" by Queen and David Bowie. You know, that song about stress and all with lots of skat bursts that make you want to scream along with the band. If I weren't surrounded by my busy colleagues, who are likely wondering why I am banging my head so much, I would scream along.
"BE BE DAT BOM! BE BE DE DAT DOM!" I'd yell, putting all living creatures in earshot on notice that I am worn out, I am stressed and I could not sing to save my life.
That is all. Go back to your business. Nothing more to see here. Until later.
posted by Logan C. Adams at 4/27/2006 11:05:00 PM
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