I generally enjoy Fridays. The work week is over and good times begin. Unfortunately, my Friday started with a standoff. One guy who just got out of prison for armed robbery, was wanted for another and decided to sit in a house for several hours whilst cops surrounded it. He eventually died of a gunshot wound and it's not yet known whether he did it, or a police officer. Luckily I got out of there shortly after lunch and was sent to the courthouse to meet up with Kate where she was covering the David Crespi sentencing. Crespi was extremely ill and killed his five year old twin daughters. Awful, awful story. Anyway, the newsroom made HEINOUS, HORRIBLE decisions Friday. Just a typical day of stupid thinking from management when the big boss is out of town. When the day starts with bad decisions, it's hard to turn it around. Anyway, thanks to Kate not sucking, we actually did alright with our coverage considering we only had one crew. However, because of several weird ways that our station works, hard work isn't always rewarded. We bust our ass for no apparent reason on a regular basis. Friday evening was one of those times and it really pissed me off. I don't get mad often, but I was pretty fired up after work Friday. Part of that was because I was hungry, and also because I was late to my Dad's birthday party at my sister's house in Concord.
On my way to Concord, I realized that we had just heard from a mother whose husband had killed their five year old twin girls. When she spoke, she talked about how much she still love her husband, and she did that all with a smile. Did I mention that he stabbed their five year old twin girls to death?
I quickly changed my mood and realized what a whiney little biatch I am on occasion.
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