from August 20, 2004

I just came into the big, wood and tile-paneled hall that is the Daily. It looks and smells just the same - scattered with papers, the computers sitting stockily in their practical lines across the tables, and the slightly musty, paper-and-wood smell that I only now realize is a fundamental part of the Daily experience. I've avoided this building all summer, burnt out by the pace I kept last year. But coming in, I realize I'm ready for this year to start. I'm ready for the hours I'll spend in here; I'm ready for the typing and the bustle and the telephone calls. I'm ready to argue with the editors about typos and grammar mistakes; I'm ready to stay here late at night if necessary, to drum out an article or check its layout on the page. I'm scared, too - this is going to be one of the busiest semesters I've ever had, with Clutch practice and constant traveling over the weekends and my dissertation and everything else. But coming in here makes me feel like maybe I can handle it. There's a sort of timeless competence ingrained in the walls of this place.

It reminds me of Andy's Summer Playhouse, in that the building itself is so deeply integrated with the experience. It's like Andy's, too, in that it's an endeavor almost completely created by the students involved in it. It doesn't have the sense of freedom and summer and creative abandon that Andy's had, nor can it possibly produce the kind of camaraderie that theater creates - especially for me, since I'm not, like the editors, here 24-7 and pouring my soul and sweat into making the Daily happen. But even the smell is reminiscent of Andy's - a smell of dust, wood, paper, a sawdusty smell, flavored with hard work.

It's still quiet in here; summer hasn't quite ended. The business staff is present on the other side of the room, and I hear their soft conversations and the taptap of computer keys. But my side of the room is empty, and the chairs lie in various abandoned poses near the computer screens. Soon this room will be teeming with people and the sounds of the phone ringing and of people talking and of tape recorders returning the tinny voices of prior interviews. It's such a more alive and rich place than my quiet, dead office; than the sullen lab; than the cold, flourescent-lighted halls of the geology department where the best smile you can expect is usually a strained one.

I hope this year goes well. Really, looking at it as it slowly picks up momentum, rolling towards its start, it's quite petrifying. But maybe it's time for a bit more activity and stress in my life. I'm ready not to be bored; I'm ready for a challenge. I want this year to be rich and packed and productive. I want to exceed the expectations of my fears.

Anyway... there it is. The inspiration of the Daily, alongside the memories of other places in my life. Time for me to go back to work - but I'll be back here, maybe Monday or Tuesday, to start in on the several writing projects I've got for the beginning of the year.