* I’m sick. Like way sick. I spent all weekend sweating, shivering and sleeping.
The more I think about it, the more I think I blame Executive Producer Wendy for giving me a new water bottle. My old one was coated in a thin film of ancient bacteria that kept my immune system humming like a finely-tuned engine. This new one is clean, so I’ve lost my edge against disease.
I would have called in sick today but you can’t really do that without shafting someone big-time on this schedule. People don’t want to come in and work overnight, so we morning producers end up having to do twice the work when people don’t step up. It’s a sad reality of the biz. So I’m here, even punching out a blog in my weakened state. How lucky are YOU?
* Former Alderman Dorothy Tillman got arrested after a ruckus in a hospital in Alabama over the weekend. While doing a little research on her background, I learned she once brandished a gun in the city council. Who are we electing around here? It’s almost like we’re playing into the stereotype of Chicago politics.
* You cannot kill Mick Jagger. Don’t even try.
* If you’re one of the people who faints over the thought of Obama as president, here’s why.
* Zoraida staged a mini-mutiny against me this morning, refusing to read the entire script I’d written about the world’s fastest bartender. To end the story, I wrote, “Over 60 minutes, he whipped up 253 different drinks… or as Lindsay Lohan calls it, ‘breakfast.'”
Oh, Zoraida. Sweet, sweet, non-judgmental Zoraida.
* Today we ran a story about a process called “Googlewashing,” where companies claim to be able to hide all the bad stuff about you online by generating lots of other (neutral) search results. How much to erase my brain in relation to those pictures of Britney getting out of the car?
* Enough blogging for now. I’m going to go home, crawl into the fetal position and shiver myself to sleep.