Right now, I'm listening to one of the archivers complain about how she's upset she didn't get to graduate with honors. From high school. Which was a while ago. The last Saturday I worked, I got to hear all about her *ahem* romantic history. At length.
She's not telling me this, mind you, but the other archiver. I think because they're back in the corner, she forgets I'm out here. And can hear everything she's saying.
Every other Saturday, I have the night shift. I work from about five to about midnight, working on the Sunday morning paper. I don't love it, but I like it much better since we got a second copy editor again, because I worked six days a week on a weird schedule for a couple of months. They don't pay me enough for that.
We work with a skeleton crew on Saturday nights, so there's Boss, me, and the two archivists. There's usually someone from sports also, but he finished up and was able to head home a couple of hours ago.
Here's hoping I get to head for the hills myself sometime soon.
Bee's
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