Went to work today. I stayed through the afternoon, feeling self-satisfied about being in the office during my summer break.
I had a big stack of things to fax. So big, in fact, that our department’s fax machine wouldn’t take the entire stack of paperwork at one time. I had to send it in two batches.
And then I retreated up to my office. But, since this is summer, I sat on the sofa instead of at my desk. I wrote four letters of recommendation. I exchanged Emails generally had a productive day off while at work.
As I was leaving work I received a call from someone wanting an interview about newspaper use of Facebook and Twitter. We talked for about 25 minutes. None of my answers were in 140 characters. Hopefully it was useful.
I wrapped up my complete laundry project. I so thoroughly finished the job that the stack of unmated socks was put with another stack of unmated socks I didn’t even know about. There were six happy reunions. I considered throwing a little party for them.
And then I promptly threw a glass of tea over a white shirt. Sigh. Life gives you successes and stumbles in proportion so you can celebrate all the right little things. So back to the washing machine.
I did two voiceovers this evening. I’ve done just enough of them recently to remember how much fun they are. Hopefully a few more will come my way soon.
Alabama's Ricki Lebegern on the bars, earlier this year.
Late into the night I worked on a new project. I’ve been asked to contribute to a little gymnastics photography book. I poured over four years of photographs and found 47 images to submit for consideration. Maybe four or five are worth considering.
Work, laundry, voiceovers, photographs. That’s a nice day off.
Mathematical oddity of the day: My car boasts a 16-gallon gas tank. This evening I filled it up. It took 18.083 gallons.
Now, there’s no excuse to run out of gas in my car. There’s a gas mileage option, a current use graph and a miles to go readout in the display. At 50 miles the screen changes, as if to say “Hey, just wanted you to know.”
With around 30 miles to go the little exclamation point comes on and the numbers disappear. “You’re really toying with danger here.”
You can count the miles after that, turning off the air, coasting down hills and wondering if your tires are inflated for maximum efficiency. But only if you notice when the numbers disappeared. I didn’t catch that change today because I was doing that social media in the newsroom interview.
I’ve crunched the numbers and that means I coasted into the pump. Don’t do that, friends.
