and it's saying work has been my thought bubble almost everyday now.
Which is gloomy.
The newsroom is that loud redvioletswirl-painting that spells S-T-R-E-S-S.
I feel dumb inside the newsroom. I feel careless. I tiptoe most of the time, afraid I might miss out some details in those police stories. Even those light tips and "proud to be pinoy" good news for the morning show give me the headaches (trust me, the usual "how to fix your sala" or "how to look taller" tips may appear innocently easy, but no, as in N-O. it would take even an hour or more to complete a 5-bullet list). And then the brandbugs (these are the 10-seconder crawling lines that announce flash reports or shouts out episodic plugs for the station's shows. it will take five trips back and forth from the newsroom and the editing room to decide whether to place "suroy-suroy ormoc!" or "suroy sa ormoc!"). Yes, I multi-task. Heck, everyone multi-tasks for that daily 30 minutes of airtime. 12 hours of work, five times a week. This is the silly calendar I live with.
Sometimes I imagine I am transported to a little planet with three rings in it and the only way I can survive is to sing, "ma-human ra ning adlawa."
And then I get a headbump and realize I chose this crazy set-up because there's something I haven't seen yet. It's the cliche chant "I want to learn" that pushes me.
My work is a challenge I am too proud to say no to.
No comments:
Post a Comment