newsroom

The sky turned gray a few hours ago and the bare trees look spidery, unkind. I am finishing up a story in the DTH newsroom now about how graduate students are apathetic about Student Congress (can you blame them?). Keyboards clacking, filtered phone conversations, nails tapping on the desk, wheels of rotating chairs scraping the floor, people talking to themselves, to others. All of the conversations overlapping and running into each other; you can't tell where one voice ends and another beings. Somehow, I like working in a frenetic environment. Not all of the time. Some days it drives me mad; others, like today, I like being in a busy place, even if I'm not particularly busy (as you can tell I'm not now, because I'm blogging. I'm waiting for sources to call me back, chill out). 

I am finally going home tomorrow for Thanksgiving break. I can't wait to see my family, eat at our table, sleep in my tiny, cold bed. I wish I had the luxury to read over the break, but exams are more pressing, and so I will probably have to keep myself from that.

Minutes from today's Monday Snax: A lengthy discussion on every conceivable type of pie; Catherine and I want Emily to give us henna tattoos so we can have an excuse to greet relatives in Arabic at Thanksgiving; today's DTH opinion column made us angry and reinforced previously held stereotypes; Catherine gave a speech about her life and aspirations; Emily ate her marijuana cereal; we all departed promptly.

So happy to go home.