When mouths run faster than brains

This post is a day late, but that may have worked out for the best. My week was rather uneventful anyway. Saturday night, however, was not.

As long as I can remember, I've been attention starved. Though I wouldn't equate it to a "look-at-me" type attitude, I have become something of a showman, and I tend to use my mouth and whatever wit I possess to garner whatever notice I can. For better or worse, I've been fairly successful with it. I'm always the one joking around, spewing one-liners, sarcasm, and busting the whatevers of my friends. It almost always elicits a laugh.

Saturday night, it didn't.

The back story is longer than anyone cares to hear about, so I'll just say I came into the newsroom that evening in a bit of a hurry, looking to have a story read that I thought to be going in the Sunday paper, a story that I'd poured literally dozens of hours and three rewrites into.

Upon informing my editor that said story was done and asking him to read it, he countered by saying that he'd read it tomorrowish (turns out the story got moved back to Monday). At 7 o'clock, it is likely he had other things that took priority. I recognize this.

Unfortunately, as I have mentioned, I also have a fairly active mouth. I haven't a bit of malice in my body, but I certainly do like to talk. Given the rejection, I immediately moved into "sarcastic busting-of-chops" mode, challenging him on why he couldn't read it, and eliciting some somewhat real disappointment. All of this, I can assure you, was done in jest...I didn't even think twice about it. Unfortunately, it did not come off in any reasonable facsimile of the way I had intended it. I no doubt came off as a self-absorbed, inconsiderate smartass, and one that doesn't respect authority to boot.

For my transgression, which my editor took as not only a blatant attitude problem, but also a measure of personal disrespect, I received an ear-full. Taken aback as I was by the situation, I was exceptionally apologetic, though I was also somewhat defensive, offering that I certainly meant nothing by it. After all, I've displayed that same brand of sarcasm many times before, only to receive the same brand back.

None of this, however, gets to the point. While the Missourian has taught me how to be a journalist, and my parents have taught me to be respectful, no one has seemingly been able to drill it through my head that there is both a time and a place for my antics, no matter how good natured they may be. Eventually, as it did Saturday, something is going to come off wrong. More than comma usage, reigning in my personality figures to be one of my greatest challenges when working in a professional environment.

Anyway, to Greg, again, I'm sorry. From now on, I hope I can stick to botching punctuation instead of my relationships within the office.

PROGRESS REPORT: The baseball team is out of town. Though simple, I'm not sure I've ever read a more beautiful sentence. In their absence, I hope to pen at least a feature or two, while also catching up on sleep, money, and my life. This week I only had two stories in the paper, one in which I may have timed incorrectly, and another that just wasn't very exciting. Hopefully my break will recharge me a bit, and an uptick in work quality will follow.