What (or who) are you tired of?

You and me both.
Between Friday and Saturday I wrote nine stories (a couple were call-ins or college baseball write-ups off SID stories and box scores, but they were still a few hundred words each), paginated six pages and shot photos at two baseball games.
And dealt with Slowpoke Granny at Chick-fil-A.
Why do I do this again?

 

So you can dream of Slowpoke Granny having a slow painful death from choking on her Chick-Fil-A chicken. Or stroke or heart attack.

 

Coaches who take 30 minutes to come out of the locker room during a multiple-game tournament session when I have to cover the next game.

 

You only can do so much. Figure out ways to cut down and call it a day.

 

Shit, I couldn't get the h.s. girls coach to come out until just a couple of minutes before tip-off of the boys game.

Every time I hear, "I'll just be a few minutes," I want to respond with, "No, I will just be a few minutes. You'll be in there for at least half an hour."

 

The reporter who had a beat before I did who can't let go.

She keeps showing up at meetings and interacting with sources via emails and social media. It confuses people and causes challenges for me.

Yo, you were moved off the beat for a reason. Maybe if you but as much effort into your new beat as you put into mine, you will have more success and not have to be moved again.

 

Sounds like what my wife says when I get to the bathroom first.

 

These phrases:
"Moving forward..."
"At this time..."
"Are you kidding me?"

 

SNOW.

 

Single-digit temperatures. Tomorrow night, unless the weather is way, way off, should be the last of them until December.

 

Yes! Finally a warmup in our future. I'm planning on attending my 10-year-old great-nephew's outdoor hockey game on Saturday, and actually looking forward to being outside. Mid-30s and sunny. It's going to feel like the 60s after the last six weeks.

 

Sign outside my local church:
"Whoever is praying for snow, please stop."