At Least They're Committed

Ding! Another “sent” email. One night a month it’s like any night at a newspaper. Twelve, 13, 14, 15. Hoping your eyes were right, hoping all is accurate, hoping your instincts ring true. (Hold onto your butts!)

Got out about 5:50 or so, sprinted to the bus ‘cuz it was pulling up and I was a block away, grabbed food at Chili’s on the way home, one last check on the laptop, got the OK and then off it went. Twenty-five, 26, 27, 28.

Sitting here watching Yellow Submarine, drinking wine and counting the “sent” emails. Thirty-four, 35, 36, 37 that should . . . oh, wait! Thirty-eight! OK, bed time. Now is when I lay awake and worry about what I might have missed.