Cyber Nice Guy's blog: "Cacoethes scribendi"

Just did a tally: Not counting the initial trip to Lloydminster and a couple of return trips to Edmonton for speech therapy, I have 36 Greyhound receipts to Vermilion and back. The mere thought of taking a bus makes me ill.

The newspaper job is not working out due to many factors - mainly due to poor planning on my part. I've resigned as of yesterday, and I'm returning to school this winter. I have the full support of my parents with regards to this decision. I think I was so desperate to get out of Wal~Mart that I didn't look before I leapt. I admittingly didn't plan things very well. Factors of poor planning included the costly Greyhound commute back and forth every day, the resulting 12-hour days, the walking and freezing in extreme sub-zero temperatures. I overall didn't feel very secure. The fact that I wasn't even working in the position I thought I was hired for - the editor - and the job had no benefits as an incentive is also a factor. Being a reporter is not what I'm truly meant to be. A writer, yes. I love to write, but not in a news format. It took working at two newspapers to confirm this. My ship will be changing course, but it will be a gentle wide turn. Over the past couple of days, I've been mulling over my future. Since I graduated college in 2004, the desire to return to school has always been in the back of my mind. The stories I covered at the local college left an impression on me. It looks like a great place to springboard a new career from. I'm looking at something in environmental sciences, which can lead to a degree (two year college program, then a direct entry into the degree program). This winter, I hope to upgrade my high school mathematics, physics and chemistry marks in preparation - mainly because there is a math course in the program, but I would like to sharpen my other number/science skills as well. I think being 25, I have the discipline now to focus on my weaker academic skills. There's a program at the Lloydminster campus that would allow me to do so. As a matter of fact, I have the application form next to me, ready to be filled out. I visited the College this morning for a closer look around. Income shouldn't be a problem for the winter - I can return to Wal~Mart to work part-time, or even the restaurant I used to work at as a dishwasher. I'm in good standing at both. Jobs are still a dime a dozen in Lloydminster. Labour jobs are good because they prevent me from becoming lazy. Hopefully this doesn't seem too abrupt to you - not to me, as it's been running through my head for a couple of weeks. I'm excited about taking the wheel and steering my life in a new direction. -30-

While walking from the office to the bus depot in the deep freeze yesterday, I realized that the ear flaps on my furry hat wasn't working as they should. The wind managed to penetrate and chill the sides of my face and my ears. I checked my cold ears when I made it inside the depot, but they were thankfully OK. Out of curiosity when I got home, I checked the brand name. My parents got it for me for Christmas last year. It was Penman's, a Wal~Mart clothing brand. That explains that!

Alberta is in the midst of a severe and rare cold snap, caused by an Arctic high-pressure system originating from the Yukon. Tonight, there's a windchill warning in effect. Temperature will be -28C, but factoring in the extreme windchill will make it -41C.

I never want to have this particular experience again. My bus was over two hours late tonight. It broke down just outside Vegreville (about an hour from Vermilion) so the driver had to call another bus for a transfer. It was not a good night for that to happen, with drifting snow with a -33C windchill. The Vermilion Greyhound office was closed at 9:30, but I was able to seek refuge at the Shell gas station next door. When it closed I huddled against the wall of the Greyhound building, my hot coffee rapidly becoming an ice cappucino in the frigid air. I was wearing my big heavy winter coat, furry hat, gloves, long underwear, thick socks and my new winter boots - yet I still could feel the extreme chill penetrating my body (and soul). When the bus finally came around the corner, the driver was very apologetic (not his fault, though - the bus was junk) and I got to save my ticket for another day. I jumped on and found a seat close to the heat.

I'm an "editor" by title only, and sometimes I'm not even sure about that (I knew it was too good to be true). The Voice is mostly a vehicle for advertisements - a chance for businesses all over the County of Vermilion River to get their message out. Compared to the Vermilion Standard or Lloydminster's Meridian Booster and Source, it's an amateurish rag. I wish I had started my career with this paper as opposed to the Slave River Journal. At least with this entry-level position, I can start small, tool around a bit with my writing, and practise my journalism skills.

Rodeos are fun. Cowgirls are sexy. Bareback riding on an undisciplined horse looks dangerous. Vermilion's a nice town. I'm disappointed with my camera's behaviour as of late.

As I sit here on the eve of the beginning of my first newspaper command, my consciousness is swimming with conflicting feelings of trepidation and nervousness, anticipation and excitement. I'm all ready for action, but is the paper and the town of Vermilion ready for me?

Errands, errands, errands. I got my hair cut. In retrospect, I should have gotten it cut in a J. Jonah Jameson style (Daily Bugle publisher/editor in the Spiderman comics). Next time, perhaps. My wardrobe has expanded to include some "editor duds" - new khaki pants and a couple of button-up shirts (dark red and navy blue). I already have ties and belts. I have some brand-new notepads and pens. My brilliant new red pen is itching for action.

Wal~Mart is being purged from my system. I had crazy dreams last night about endless waves of customers, crates of stock burying me in the backroom, faces of the people I knew there, the narrow aisles, fruitless quests for Telxons and pallet jacks and gathering carts in the insane parking lot.