Presents From the Road

I rarely get to leave the office. Wait, let me rephrase that: in an official capacity I never get to leave the office. I like to think my hermitage is due to the fact I am always needed behind the scenes, but in reality I think there is some concern about the image I would present on behalf of the station. That probably has something to do with the "corner office" I am expected to sit in when dignitaries visit the station. I mean, its nice, there's a plant, but I wish it wasn't in the parking garage. Also, I wish my business cards said something other than "if found attached to person, drop her in any mailbox, postage guaranteed."

There are some benefits to being cloistered. I have never had to move beyond "business casual." Actually, I consider "business casual" kind of dressy. I always know what is in the office fridge, and if anything is growing anything that could be used as an antibiotic in case of emergency. Oh, and I am the only one that knows the name of all of the mice who live in the crawl spaces and feed on the debris of meals stuffed hastily into the faces of reporters as they try to make deadline.

Of course, on the downside, I never get to get outside. I actually sometimes forget Salt Lake City is where I live, and not some magical land where news is made. That's why I love my reporters. They bring me the most lovely little tidbits, and I hoard them like a squirrel with shiny things. The best ones come from Sam. This was his latest find...


It's funny, 'cause it's true. I just hope the powers that be don't get any ideas and make my corner office mobile.

Nah, they can't risk me coming in contact with people...