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Let’s hope the first week wasn’t an omen
Sheila Smith, Staff Writer
02-17-2010
Well, I’m back. If you remember me from a few years ago, it’s nice to be writing for you again. If you don’t remember me, you didn’t miss much.
I worked for the Jennings Daily News from 2006 until May 2008, and after two years of attempting to become a successful human being, I have returned, unsuccessful. I was happy to return to my old post as the Daily News Staff Writer, the spare in our group of writers, and I honestly expected to jump back into the job with no problems.
But if my first week back was any indication, my job may already have the best of me.
Last Monday was my first day back in the office, but I had somewhat of an all-day affair in Welsh, where I was sent to cover the Farm Day Forum. I arrived at the Welsh Community Center early, meeting up with many people I had worked with before, including other members of the local press. Not long after the event started, I found myself taking inventory of the items I had brought in with me: pen, paper, cell phone...
“Something’s missing,” I told a fellow reporter.
“Your purse?” she asked.
“I left that in the car. I didn’t need it and if someone steals it, the joke’s on them. I have a bottle of perfume and some useless checks and an equally useless debit card,” I said.
Then I realized what was missing: keys.
The keys weren’t exactly missing. They were quite visible, atop my center console in my car, but I could not touch them because I had locked the doors. The spare key was miles away in Gott’s Cove.
Thankfully, my father was willing to make the drive to deliver extra keys.
Tuesday was a tad more complicated. Tuesdays at the Jennings Daily News are actually the official beginning of every week. On this day we are fully staffed and publishing the local newspaper. And on my first Tuesday, I awoke at 8:13 a.m. when I should have been at the office for 8 a.m. sharp.
“I am so sorry,” I told Daily News Assistant Editor Scott Lewis in a phone call. “I will be there as soon as I can.”
When I walked into the office at 9 a.m., Graphics Designer Nicole Lewis peeked around a corner with a cup of coffee in hand.
“There’s coffee,” she said. “I hear you need some of that today.”
Normally, Editor Rebecca Chaisson would enter professional mode and give me a speech about punctuality. Luckily, she was about to board a tour bus for a trip to New Orleans, so she only had that on her mind.
I was hoping for a better week by Wednesday, but alas, my hopes were dashed.
I spent my lunch hour that day running errands and in the last few minutes of my break, I realized I still had to go by the ATM. As the machine spit out my money, I grabbed it and sped off, making it back to the office before my time was up.
Of course, that night a friend and I went out for dinner, and when the checks were served, I panicked.
“I don’t have my debit card,” I said, dumping the contents of my purse onto the table. “This is bad. This is bad.”
“I have enough cash to cover both our bills,” my friend offered kindly.
“Hey, that’s great, but what about my debit card? What if my identity was stolen between the appetizer and entrée?”
Then I remembered my quick trip to the ATM and how that trip seemed to take much less time than before.
“I sincerely hope that machine ate my card,” I told my friend. “Because if it’s anywhere else, I’m going to have a nervous breakdown.”
Thankfully, the ATM had kept my debit card after I drove away without it. I had called my bank from the office the next morning, and the cashier I spoke with said she was happy to return it to me.
“We’ll just need to see your driver’s license as proof of identity,” she said.
No problem. My driver’s license is always in my wallet. Unfortunately, that day, Thursday, my wallet had disappeared. Not only would my debit card be withheld without my license but without my wallet, that meant I was driving illegally.
With my week being a disaster thus far, I was confident I would somehow meet up with a cop and receive a big fat ticket – which I couldn’t pay, because my checks were in my wallet and my debit card was being held hostage at the bank.
Thankfully, my father located my wallet and made yet another delivery to me that week.
Now, if you would expect my Friday to be better, you would be wrong. Friday topped my week from Hades. In fact, what happened Friday was so embarrassing, and I felt so ashamed, that I’m not even going to write about it in this space. I hate to deny you a laugh at my expense, but it’s one of those things that should never be spoken of again.
I’m just sayin’ that first impressions are lasting ones, and if my first week back was any indication, my return to the Jennings Daily News may not go as smoothly as I anticipated.
Who knows what tragedies await before this column even gets printed.
