The Desk

I have a desk. It's kind of a half-cubicle; there's a divider between me and Betty, the woman who sits next to me, and there's a divider right in front of me, where I had to thumb-tack the HR guy's business card so I'd have the phone number and address of the new place, as well as the name. In the first few phone calls I made I kept telling people I was at the Fort Worth Business Journal (it's the Business Press, and sooner or later I'll remember that). To my right is a window, a big, nice one that looks over a vacant lot, a little bit of busy Hulen, the tower of Central market and a parking lot and building of the next block up.

This is my new home from 9-5, working like a real person. It's strange because parts of it are so familiar . . . the phone calls, the interviews, the research, the phone ringing as people call you back. The only thing is I've never been mandated to st in one place to take care of the daily workings of being a reporter. At TCU I did my reporting when I wanted, since I had other things going on (like school), and at BU I did most things from my apartment, sitting cross-legged on my bed. My internship at the Fort Worth Weekly wasn't filled with a lot of day-to-day stuff, and at the Globe there wasn't too much reporting, since stories were rare. Until a few weeks ago, all my Star-Telegram stuff was on my own schedule. Someone wasn't calling me back? I'd leave and go ride Topper.

Now I have to wait at my desk until they call back. It can be dull. I read a lot of news, and every day I'm thinking of new websites to fill my down time. The closest thing I can think of is my internship at Nature in London, where I had to be there, regardless of whether there was true work, for at least 5 hours a day. (It was supposed to be 8, but Charles Wenz, my supervisor, was very good at encouraging me to take off and go enjoy the weather once it was spring.)

But there are upsides. For example: business cards. And a phone at my desk, so people will no longer call me on my cell phone and interrupt a ride to talk about whatever story I'm working on. Thinking about dorky stuff all day is also very gratifying, even if it does involve hospital PR people who want to watch as you interview a doctor.

I met a PR woman who came from many, many years of broadcast journalism. I hope I never become a PR person.

Now I'm gonna go be a I-just-got-off-work-and-am-gonna-watch-crap-tv person and see some America's Next Top Model.

Don't judge. You know you watch too.