Monica Bielanko
That's What She Said
Just A Junk Drawer Dream
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Pass Me A Beer, Please

Managing people is not in my nature. At least I don't think it is. Bossing people around, different story. But managing involves dealing with delicate egos and coordinating chaos and treading lightly or coming down hard as the situation requires. It's exhausting. This week has been a doozy. On more than five occasions I have had to hide in a restroom stall with my teeth clenched to keep from shouting obscenities at large.

My desk is out in the middle of the newsroom where folks often stop by to give me their two cents. This is enjoyable, but when seven people in ten minutes have something they need to talk to you about, well, I have to remind myself to take a few deep breaths while nodding and smiling.

As a result of the big switch from analog to digital... oh my god will the world explode?... I now have a new flat screen television perched perkily atop my desk. She is certainly a sexy piece of equipment. I'm watching something, who knows what, one of those versions of CSI with strategically shadowy scenes and gruff talking cops and the picture is so crisp I have to restrain myself from licking the screen. Lookit them purty colors! Thank god I'm not an anchor and toil in anonymity behind the scenes instead. Who wants a high definition look inside the crater-sized pores on this mug? The humanity. My ass clenches just thinking about it.

Did someone say Friday? Can I get a whoop whoop? Thanks be to Jesus.