Journalists spend time apart from families for assignments
My Christmas started around 5:30 a.m., but I wasn’t getting up early for Santa. I was in the middle of working 13 days straight, usually working an eight-hour shift at two jobs every day, averaging 16-17 hours a day.
Being a young journalist in a small town isn’t easy.
Although the New York Times and Washington Post have been describing this period in our history “the golden age of journalism” with investigative articles reminiscent of Watergate being written about the Trump administration, working as a journalist still means tight deadlines, long hours and filling in for staffing shortages.
I write online content for a TV station and I’m also a barista at a coffee shop.
My best friend and I went to see friends and family in Colorado before the holidays because I knew both of my jobs would be understaffed between Christmas and New Year’s.
My days began before 6 a.m. and ended after 11 p.m. I took as many naps as possible between shifts and during lunch breaks.
But getting five hours or less of sleep every night for that long takes a toll on one’s mental health.
For one thing, it made me less tolerant of coworkers’ bull. One of my fellow baristas told me three different times that we were out of eggnog for lattes. I started typing “out of eggnog” into the custom section on each sticker, even for drinks that didn’t come with eggnog.
It was my way of telling him that I knew we were out, that he didn’t need to keep reminding me over and over. I was trying to make a joke out of it. Unfortunately, it just made him angry.
I didn’t have much patience for petty behavior and I ended up being petty back because when I’m that sleep deprived, I don’t have a filter anymore.
Dealing with the public during the holidays means customers are petty, too.
One older lady came through the drive-through one night, asking if she could get a free red cup with her holiday beverage.
“I’m so sorry, we ran out at 9:30 a.m.,” I said, just like I’d been telling everyone else. “Would you still like one of our new lattes?”
I could see her on the drive-through camera. She sat silent in her car, staring forward.
My shift supervisor came over and asked her if she’d like anything else.
“No!” she said. “I just want to pout.” She crossed her arms angrily like a toddler, not like someone who had to be over 50.
We let her sit there and fume until she was ready to order because we didn’t know what else to do.
But working two jobs during the holidays wasn’t all stress.
I took two huge grocery bags full of leftover pastries to a soup kitchen on Christmas Eve. The people standing in the cold outside told me they were excited to have food they could not normally buy.
At the same time, I shot video on my iPhone of volunteers preparing sack lunches for those in need on the holidays. This ended up being a VOSOT — the sound byte and video that runs behind the anchor’s voiceover in a newscast.
I drove over to Christmas Eve service at my church between shifts, savoring an hour to just sit and enjoy the music while also shooting video of the candle lighting to message back to the station for the 6 p.m. show.
After work, I tiptoed into the back of a Catholic cathedral’s midnight mass and closed my eyes for the Hallelujah chorus. The moment felt sacred.
But on Christmas Day back in the newsroom, I heard more domestic disturbances than usual over the police scanner and I covered three homes or apartment complexes that caught fire, both overnight and that morning.
Just because it was a holiday didn’t mean every family was celebrating in harmony like a classic Hallmark movie. But I heard one of the first responders thanked everyone else who was working on Christmas over the radio Christmas morning for their dedication and service to the community.
And then just as suddenly as it began, New Year’s Day arrived, the last day of the work streak. I’d worked around 120 hours in 12 days. I collapsed into bed and slept at least 10 hours for the next several days.
Now school is back in session and I’m still working two jobs, taking classes and writing for the college paper. But this is the career I have chosen, and my favorite kind of work.