I feel so far behind today. I'm flying to Mississippi tomorrow -- actually to Memphis, where my boss and I will take a car to Oxford, home of Ole Miss. He and I will be involved in a workshop teaching other reporters about the nonprofit sector from a reporter's perspective. I'm half of a panel (with Ann Andrews of Global Reach) about how to tell if you're being handled by the PR Department. The presentation is complete -- has been for more than a week now -- but I've not scripted my comments. I know what I'm going to say, but not exactly HOW I'm going to say it.
I don't know why I'm so nervous about it, however. It's more like how I approached the classes I taught when I was doing my student teaching in college.
Couple that nervousness with the recent onslaught of NPT 100 information arriving on the fax and in the mail. It has begun again: the annual attack of paper, data, clerical tedium. It makes my skin clammy; my fingers cool as the blood scurries back to the heart, leaving my extremities at risk.
Yet tonight should be pleasant. It's a beautiful day, and I'll umpire a Little League game, pack for tomorrow, and enjoy spending time with Maureen. She's not sure whether she's going to watch our friend Jaimie on stage at Hooters for the "Dating Game" through WDHA. I suspect it'll be done by the time my baseball game's over. I could probably use a beer tonight, though, before I pack.
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