my stack of newspapers

There's a place in the newsroom, aside from the breakroom, that's as cathartic to me as the lake I'm sitting next to, and that's my stack of newspapers. I take great care of this stack, making sure that in the evenings and on weekends especially I help the pressing process by placing three large binders on top of them. I unknowingly straighten them approximately 12 times a day and when someone needs to look through them, I do it for them. And then make them promise to bring it back to me.

So when a cleaning crew started coming to our office, and we were told that stacks of newspapers would be their prey, I freaked.

Not my newspapers. I left a note on them with permission from our GM that my stack was fine. Leave it alone.

But then today a reporter informed me that some of his stuff had been thrown away and I hurled the words, "If they touch my stack of newspapers, I'm crying," out of my mouth without thinking. Another reporter said, "Oh, I know you will. You care a lot about those newspapers."

These newspapers.



I wrote a note and left it there tonight.