Tonight our March issue went to press. Art Director Michelle-Renee Adams and I left the office at 6:30pm, shaking our heads in wonder at how close these monthly deadlines seem to come, one after the other. Didn’t we just do this? The last one seems like yesterday.
By the time we get to the “to printer” day each month I feel like I’m on the edge of losing it. My brain has spent too much time trafficking details without a break. My eyes are stinging in rebellion against the many hours I’ve been staring at a computer screen. And my patience is waning.
As I drove to work today, I did a lot of talking to myself. “Okay, you’re tired. Get over it. You have to keep pushing for just a few more hours and then you can relax.”
I was waiting at the stoplight at 70th Street and Shea, about to turn left into our office complex, when I glanced at the license plate on the car in front of me.
DPBREATH, it said.
I took one. And it helped.