tonight was a WAAAAAY stressful night at work. my copy-editor (my! ha!) is on vacation for the week, so i'm alone at night putting the paper out. stressful shit. then at like 10:45 p.m. the phone rings. i pick it up. on the other end, a guy asks if this is the newsroom, then asks me "do you happen to know what day princess di died?" i'm calm on the exterior. but on the inside, i'm thinking "I HAVE FOUR FUCKING WIDE OPEN PAGES TO LAY OUT. NUMEROUS HEDLINES AND CUTLINES, OBITUARIES TO EDIT AND HE WANTS TO KNOW WHAT FUCKING DAY PRINCESS DI DIED!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
fortunately for him i have good phone skills. i recommended he call the reference desk of the library.
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