25.06.12 - The Lion's Den

My first day at work. The cycle in is almost all down hill or flat which is nice but doesn’t bode well for the cycle home. The big chief, Sandy, is back in town and there is an editors’ meeting at 10.45am which is the BIG meeting of the week. I was assured that if I didn’t have a story that I would be given something to start me off. Well, that was a pack of lies. Sandy, like a weathered, old rhino with bad posture and eyelids that almost obstruct her vision. She is the owner of the birds, which are occasionally allowed the freedom of the small meeting room but seem to spend most of their time clinging to the ventilation shaft looking into the office. A lot of Americans I’ve met have voices that sound as though they’ve had something horrible done to their vocal chords, really low and gruff, like the cookie monster. Sandy fits into this category.
So she went round the room asking all the interns what they were working on. I was last in the circle and as she worked her way towards me all of my halved baked ideas for pithy stories crumbled in front of me and I baulked and said that I didn’t have any. I felt and looked like a complete TWAT; not one editor piped up with an event or story that I could cover. I spent the rest of the day feeling mildly sick with nerves and desperately trawling the internet for any inspiration. I did ask a couple of the editors for help but they were pretty vague. Peter, who is this week’s editor suggested doing something on the Olympics, i.e. stick with what you know for now. At least that was a starting point. When I relayed the idea to Big Chief Sandy at the end of the day she was pretty dismissive but luckily she’s away at a conference for the next few days. I’m going to write it anyway, just for something to say at the next meeting.
The office is understaffed at the moment. NAM get most of their money from grants and due to ‘the economic climate’ there is less money to go around. So everyone is very busy doing more than one person’s job and therefore has limited time to help out the interns. It feels like a sink or swim situation and at the moment I think I am going to sink. I am not used to this pressure!

On the sunnier side I am enjoying being solo, it means that I can selfishly do whatever I want. I don’t have to worry that someone isn’t enjoying themselves, I can be extremely fussy about where to eat, I can do nothing without feeling as though I should be doing something. It’s great. And having no one to whinge to means that there;s no point in whinging. Although there is also no one to laugh at my jokes, but I just laugh at my own jokes so that’s fine.

I still haven’t got over the number of down&outs here; sometimes it feels like being in a zombie film. People limping, talking to themselves, blowing raspberries at strangers; I wonder if I’ll get used to it. What is also astounding is that it is like this in central San Francisco, not on the outskirts or in an isolated, run down area. Admittedly there is a big contingent of hippy-tramp who look like they need a good wash rather than serious medical attention but they all add to the craziness of people on the street. I walked past a safe baby drop off point the other day. I don’t think that these even exist in London.


There is a 24 hour Starbucks not far from the cave so I went there to write my diary in the sunshine and then home to bed.