IMR: 1998: March: 06 -- Friday, 1:52 p.m.
Journalism Dept., Crawford Hall, Univ. of Hawai`i-Manoa, Hawai`i
I should be working right now.
In addition to not going to my afternoon job at the press, I missed yet another Hawaiian class and Borg's magazine writing class this morning just to squeeze in as much time as possible at AIB to finish the March newsletter.
You know, the one that won't reach Scandinavian members until mid-May?
So I get back from a quick McLunch with William (picking up one of those confounded McExtra cards, just so I stop feeling stupid every time they ask), and settle down at the Mac, and the phone rings.
"Good mor... er, afternoon, AIB?" I say.
"This is the dean's office," a pleasant female voice says. "Just calling to let you know there's been a bomb threat."
"Oh!" I say with feigned glee. "Great!"
She laughs and hangs up.
I wander through assorted interconnected offices, sharing the news with other unsuspecting CBA dwellers, then grab my stuff and head out of the building in a river of midterm-escaping students.
I find my coworkers leaning against a wall, watching the crowd of students watch each other.
"This is the third one for this building this semester!" one moans.
"This is the third one today, too," another says.
In fact it was. One down at the Hale Aloha dorm towers (which William mentioned), and one in the parking structure.
The parking structure, ladies and gentlemen. What the hell?
Anyway, now I get to sit here and watch journalism majors get advised, with Sharon listening in and offering input where needed.
Thankfully, the newsletter's almost done. All that was left today were the ads -- calls for papers, conference announcements, business simulation games -- and I finished most of them this morning.
Provided Laurel doesn't find another announcement, article or photo spread that "has to go into this one," the thing should be on its way to Paraguay by next Wednesday.
Much as I complain about work at AIB, I guess it's mostly because I'm actually expected to do work. Lots of work. But one of the neatest benefits is that -- in running the academy's publications and online resources -- my name is fairly well known among business scholars in 27 different countries.
Every morning I get mail addressed to "Professor Ozawa" or even "Doctor Ozawa," and that makes my day.
Hmm. I guess the bomb squad's done their thing and it's time to go back.
Of course it's started raining.
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|© Ryan Kawailani Ozawa · E-Mail: firstname.lastname@example.org · Created: 6 March 1998 · Last Modified: 7 March 1998|