sunday night in the studio
i usually spend my evenings in front of the computer getting stuff ready for the next morning’s show. but sunday night i went into the office so that i could set up some equipment to do my bidding.
it’s odd to be in the office when no one else is there. it’s quiet. it’s peaceful. it’s distracting (because there’s nothing to distract you).
when we’re in there in the morning before the show, we’re all on our game. you know how it is when you’re under time pressure — one thing goes a little bit off-plan and everything that follows is outta whack? not so on sunday night.
there’s so little going on that you notice things you don’t otherwise see: you watch one of the 42 televisions that line every square inch of space on the walls in the room, take your time when you go to the filtered water machine (that makes the most disgusting tasting water you’ve ever had but it’s not the stuff coming outta the tap so you assume it MUST be better and go on drinking it even though it tastes worse and worse with each fill of the bottle…ick, ick, ick) instead of running because you have to finish writing business news or get back for traffic and weather on the 9’s (and they just keep coming, one 9 after another as if someone planned out that there should be 6 of the stupid things in an hour so that you can never really get a break of longer than 3-4 minutes and sometimes you need longer than that to warm up some food but you can’t because maj and johnny have to earn a living too) and you take a moment or two to search for that vacation package because you have time and the internet at home is so doggone slow (as a matter of fact i’ve already typed the words hazardous waste — which you won’t encounter for another 4 or five lines — but my internet connection is so slow that i’m only seeing THESE WORDS right now) and that leads to email, a check of the drudge report which undoubtedly leads to a story about some idiot who thought he was chatting with a 14 year old girl but guess what, it turned out to be a cop and the cop didn’t think the picture of his ‘thing’ was all that amusing which of course is followed by the story of the kid who fell into a vat of hazardous waste while texting and you actually begin to feel dumber for having come in on a sunday night.
that won’t happen again.
rock’n'roll