Whisper These Little Secrets

Okay. We just squeezed a full day's work into four tight and furious hours. The company granted us a half-day, so that we could all get a head-start on the holiday weekend. This, of course, is very nice. However, we started shipping the wonderful June issue just yesterday and had much work to accomplish this morning. In addition, for various reasons, we've had to accomplish that work without the help of an ad coordinator or production manager, and all while employing an entirely new pre-press system. Shipping days, as a rule, are intense. These have gone beyond intense.

What's great about the four of us here in the office — John Atkinson, Robert Baird, Elizabeth Donovan, me — is that we become tighter and stronger in these times. We move quickly, with purpose and foresight, but never knock into one another. We surprise ourselves continuously with how much weight we can carry. If, at times, we become grumpy or impersonal, we apologize and we certainly forgive one another. We care deeply about our work and deeply about each other. We like to think that the magazine's pages, when turned, whisper these little secrets.

John just wished me a happy and fun weekend, and walked out the door, on his way home.

"Don't stay all day," he said.

"We'll see," I smiled and sighed.

Elizabeth rushed out before him, off to meet with her husband and the baby, and to catch a train to family. Robert sped off just before her, also on his way home. It's very possible, though I'm not certain, that I'm the last of all people here on this Good Friday. Outside my new and open windows, buses, cars, and the occasional bird sing.