I was going to tell you about how I went to the state fair and how my favorite ride is the log flume, how it reminds me of my childhood ...
But like many other Register columnists before me, I decided to talk about The Move.
Until I was actually sitting at my desk and being questioned about how I liked the new office, I didn’t realize that this was the second office I’ve “moved” into in seven months.
“Think of it as a new job,” said Editor Sean Scully.
“I was just getting used to my old job,” I replied.
As a journalist (and part-time nomad), I feel strongly about being able to work anywhere, anytime. Although I had a desk (sometimes two) at my old, old office, I was often shuffled around filing stories and photos using a laptop and McDonald’s Wi-Fi.
I’m adaptable. I’m used to change. I’m used to chaos.
So it wasn’t a new desk, uncomfortable chairs or the structure around me that I was worried about at the Register’s new Soscol Avenue location. Like a student getting ready for the first day of school, I was worried about where I was going to sit, who I was going to sit next to and if they were going to like me.
I think I made a pretty big splash in the Register trailer being my wonderful, exuberant, honest and (sometimes) too-talkative self.
But, I wondered, was being liked by a handful of people who were stuck in a room with me an easy feat? I felt like I was going from the kiddie-pool to the deep end, unsure if I could really swim or if people were just telling me I could.
What I was worried most about, though, was what I was going to see when I swiveled my chair around.
I’m able to quickly bond to people, and I’ve done that with a few folks here, but no one more than city editor Kevin Courtney.
The connection seemed instant – we’re both from New Jersey, both Rutgers graduates (albeit decades apart) and, I learned, we’re both Libras, our birthdays only days (and years) apart.
Sure, he’s a morning person who sneaks out with coffee cup in hand by 5 p.m. while I struggle to be in by 9:30 a.m. BUT, oh man, we can laugh.
There were times that Kevin would say something in the trailer that maybe only East Coasters could appreciate (or those with a slightly morbid sense of humor) and I would put my head down on my desk, uncontrollably (and often silently) cracking up. Other times, it was all of us laughing, but those times of muted joy are what I’m going to miss most.
Kevin now sits in the next pod over, popping up and down like a whack-a-mole when he needs to ask me a question about a story.
“What will happen to us now?” I wonder.