I woke up today - late - and watched the second half of the Man United match. I had a crappy stream on my computer, so I watched the last few minutes in Spanish, exchanging video quality for any understanding of the commentary. We won 0-4 though, so I'm happy. :)
I just got an email from the freelance reporter who's supposed to be writing up the police beats today for the paper. I guess she hurt herself last night, so she can't come in to work. Now I'm trying to decide if I'm going to go do the beats before I head to the office to build the paper. I suppose I should, although I'm not exactly sure why. Going above and beyond has gotten me absolutely nowhere at the paper. No raises in ten years - a pay CUT, in fact, when I left for another (sister) paper for a while then came back. And now further staff cuts and reorganization in staff are going to get me demoted back to the position I held when I first started at the paper - reporter. Ugh. I hate reporting, with rare exceptions.
Time to go to work now. I get tomorrow off as my holiday. Woohoo! January 2 is, after all, the best day to have off work. (Do hope you got the sarcasm dripping off that one.)