This post is about my job, so anyone who doesn’t like hearing about the day-to-day of being a trade editor should probably just skip it. But I am wiped. out. today to the point that I’m finally realizing it’s time to get serious about moving on. It’s one thing to be the editor of a magazine, and it’s one thing to technically be responsible for every p and q therein, but being a small enough operation where it’s my responsibility to personally inspect every p and q 10 times has taken its toll on me. As I wrote yesterday in a fit of delirium, I’ve done this before, and what I didn’t write yesterday is that while last night’s staying-up-late-to-finish-the-magazine session was unique for some reasons (i.e., being in the office for 16 hours), it was typical in the sense that finishing these issues is a drain.
That’s not entirely an accident, because as much as I would like to convince myself otherwise, this is a straight-out-of-college job, a starter job that I backed into after my rough go in Queens. In fact, my career has gone roughly the exact opposite direction you’d expect given the two experiences; I’d be a much better reporter now, and I would have had more energy to be the big fish in the tiny jar six years ago. But what’s happened has happened. I just don’t know how much more I can take. I have another issue that I have to turn around in exactly two weeks and I can’t even think of going into the office tomorrow because I’m so worn out. The good part is that the other main editor and I have discussed and agreed to a division of duties (me, more writing; her, more layout and editing) that suits both of our strengths, but we’re not putting that into play until after this is done. Right now I am very much in the shit, and it sucks.
The question is, where to go from here? I don’t know, and the whole thing is exacerbated by the fact that I’ve got a headache and can’t stomach the fact of going back to the office in 8 or so hours. At least I’ll get birthday drinks on Friday. That’s a plus.