The Chasing Iamb

At 2.30 am we closed an issue. I was home by 2.45. I couldnt sleep till 6 am. I saw light outside and willed myself to sleep. At that point I was full of pleased-with-myself-ness because despite all my slackness over the weekend the cover story had come together very nicely. I woke at 10 am still pleased with myself. At 4.00 we had a meeting to plan the next issue. At 6.30 pm I was back home with that familiar hollow feeling about next week and the next issue.

This is how I will grow old. This is how the years will pass. This is how journalists become drunks and addicts and desperate for intimacy. This is how people become journalists because of the need to keep doing the same thing over and over again. The compulsion to do an inexplicable thing, ask people things, tell people things. A year down the line it still seems inexplicable.