The Deadline Cometh (That Bastard)

How close are we at Mission Control to giving birth to the August issue of Northwest Sportsman? By six industry-standard measures, it is imminent.

1) There are now six different coffee mugs on my deskĀ  — light blue, yellow, rainbow, dark blue, another yellow one and a white one …

1a) … And they’re in the early stages of forming a second story.

2) My bladder is beyond full.

3) Visible surface area of my actual desktop is down to approximately 10 percent — it’s almost completely buried under the abovementioned coffee cups; lures and dodgers and odd swimbaits; notebooks full of chicken scratchings that will be all but undecipherable next week; random sheets of paper, stray sheets of paper, enough recyclable paper to put production at a pulp mill on hold for at least a couple hours; so many magazines that I worry about weight limits and the screws holding this whole thing up; maps; tupperware containers; binders full of true-life death-defying tales from Hells Canyon; and criminy, I could go on and on, but it’s deadline!

4) There are two different computers going, one with the live layouts, one with my email and all sorts of other distractions (somebody block stinkin’ YouTube, please!).

5) The ratio of curse words to other words is roughly 1:1, if not 2:1 at certain moments.

6) And ad sales reps now have time to natter about hot sockeye bites on the Peninsula that cause me to have to make time-consuming phone calls that basically reveal the aforementioned ad sales rep should’ve been there yesterday, or two weeks ago on the front end of the run.

Oh, go anyway, you got me into this mess, you buggers — no, wait, come back, I need some help with a Deschutes steelhead headline!!!!!!!

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