When I was in high school, I had this dream of skipping college, moving to Chicago and working for the Tribune.
Lucky for me, my parents insisted on college, where in the first semester I discovered I hated writing journalism, loved writing history, and met an amazing boy from Chicago with the coolest truck I'd ever seen (and best taste in pizza, but that's another story).
However, my high school dreams are coming true. Sure, we're not in Chicago, and the Daily Sentinal is no Tribune. And I'm not writing, I'm delivering...
Ok, ok, so this is nothing like my high school dream. But I'm still working for a newspaper. Kind of. I'm a contract worker. But I get the paper everyday and it is my job to ensure that all subscribers on Route 34 get that paper before 5:30 that evening!
I had a few hiccups in the delivery process the first two days, but I look forward to this afternoon's delivery route. I even think the Curly Kids and Mr. Curly will come with me, as the weather is supposed to be fine, and Mr. Curly is getting cabin fever already!
I do need to work on my newspaper throw though. Maybe I should watch Sandlot a few times (which is where the post title comes from).
For a great movie about newspaper salesmen - see Newsies.