Yet, it's an improvement
Work tomorrow morning at 2:30. I hate Christmas. Well, aside from the good food, seeing family, and that sort of thing. The financial / travel / dealing with children while running on very little sleep aspect can suck it, however.
I did get an early Christmas present, however, in that I got three station folks to help me knock out the spring programming schedule. There was a bit of coal in that stocking, however - even after three hours of organization, listening to audition CDs (many of which were AMAZING and clever and funny), and general amusement, we're still nine folks short.
It sucks, because I'd thought we were totally cool, until I realized that the nine or ten applications set off to the side were for sports and news. Suck-ass. I sent out a listserv e-mail, and will hopefully have some folks who have like-minded friends interested in doin' some early morning record spinning.
The next three days are reserved for the bakery. Then a brief nap, then two days in Cape Giardieau, then a couple of days of freedom. Hopefully, the radio station won't fall apart during that time, I won't get two late-night phone calls and a text message from an unknown personage, and the boys will refrain from acting like every question means they need to respond like Oliver North.
"Who ate all the Doritos? I don't recall."
I did get an early Christmas present, however, in that I got three station folks to help me knock out the spring programming schedule. There was a bit of coal in that stocking, however - even after three hours of organization, listening to audition CDs (many of which were AMAZING and clever and funny), and general amusement, we're still nine folks short.
It sucks, because I'd thought we were totally cool, until I realized that the nine or ten applications set off to the side were for sports and news. Suck-ass. I sent out a listserv e-mail, and will hopefully have some folks who have like-minded friends interested in doin' some early morning record spinning.
The next three days are reserved for the bakery. Then a brief nap, then two days in Cape Giardieau, then a couple of days of freedom. Hopefully, the radio station won't fall apart during that time, I won't get two late-night phone calls and a text message from an unknown personage, and the boys will refrain from acting like every question means they need to respond like Oliver North.
"Who ate all the Doritos? I don't recall."