three years

We have a balcony

I can see my desk from up here!

It doesn’t seem like I took that photo three years ago. The desks are new now. The carpet’s been replaced. More people work in the newsroom. I didn’t think to take a picture tonight.

These three years are the longest I’ve been at one single newsroom, if you don’t count my non-consecutive terms in Hopewell. I’ll surpass that next month.

It’s been a great three years. I didn’t expect to be in Charlottesville this long. I didn’t expect it to row on me to a degree. My heart remains in other places, though. I also never expected to be in this house all this time. We’ve already surpassed my cumulative time in Chimborazo. It seems so crazy that all that was more than 1,000 days ago.

In six months, we’ll mark 10 years of professional journalism. I’ll officially have a solid decade between me and Christopher Newport University. That’s still too short of a time for so much to have changed there.

Now that I’m breaking records, I wonder what’s next. I haven’t shuffled out of the prime demographic just yet. We don’t have kids yet. I’ve said packing up and heading to parts unknown was getting old, but I think I have one or two moves left in me before I say, “Here. This is where I’ll stay.”

Whatever happens next in this voyage in this profession that hasn’t died yet, despite years of obituary writing, you’ll see it here.

Now I’m off to celebrate with NyQuil and tea, because I don’t like taking sick days.

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