Life is a blur


News services director. University relations director. Freelance reporter. I’ll burn out soon if I have to keep doing all of this. For those who don’t know, my title is news services director (and I have no idea why it’s not just called public relations director). I answer to the director of university relations … that’s my boss who is in the hospital and I’m doing his work while he’s gone. The freelance reporting is a side job that supports my DVD and book addictions and pays off the accursed auto repair bills. Anyway, I’m swamped. And it’s not even a busy time of the year.

Speaking of the freelance reporting, you may remember me complaining about the stress of working on four articles while off from my main job during the Christmas break. So I was expecting a sizeable check from the paper this week. Nope. They only ran two of the pieces in Monday’s issue, so the check will be about what I usually get from them every two weeks. They’ll run the other two pieces, but I don’t know when. Oh well.

I came home today and found a package waiting for me. After some hurricane-induced delays, DeathGrip 3: It Came from the Cinema is finally out there. It’s a hefty 510 pages featuring 16 authors in a mass market-size paperback. The pages are heavier than your typical mass market. The cover price is $9.99 USD. My story for the book is “Path of Pins” and it’s by far the nastiest thing I’ve written. The first sentence is: Webster Gregg once had sex with a chicken. You can buy the book at Shocklines. Amazon will have it eventually, but buying from Shocklines supports and independent store run by a heck of a nice guy.

In other news, my wife wrecked our minivan the other day. She ran into the back of a Jeep after a traffic light turned green. No serious damage, or so she and the Jeep driver thought, so they didn’t call the cops. That’s good. The bad part is that the hood of the van is buckled and the housing holding the driver’s side headlight is all busted up. The headlight is like an eyeball in a socket that’s just a little too big. I’m sure the repair bill for that will be a few hundred bucks, at best. It’s a 10-year-old van, so we only have liability insurance, of course.

I’m so tired. Tomorrow I have to finish writing text for an event program, write a press release about our Martin Luther King Jr. Day celebration, deliver copies of John Barry’s flu book to the local media (Barry is coming to campus next week) and e-mail press releases for a religious speaker and for a theater production. I’m so glad to have my intern back; she writes some of the more mundane releases so all I have to do is edit and send them.


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