Working as a freelance writer is great. It's romantic. (And like most things romantic, not terribly profitable.) But, it allows me to tell the stories I like to tell, and most of all it allows me to learn things I like to learn. For instance, why Walla Walla's 2005 vintage was so good. Unfortunately, much of what I learn I forget once my story is filed. Perhaps my brain is a computer, and every now and then it needs to be repartitioned.
I'm thinking about all of this as I work on filing a story about Walla Walla for Alaska Airlines Magazine. I'm also noticing that I've hit that precious age at which spending an entire day in front of the computer leaves me as giddy as a college kid pulling all nighters during mid-terms. It also leaves me so computer-blind that I can't tell whether I'm looking at a small hole in the ceiling (something left by the last tenant) or a new, fat spider.
See? It is the glamorous life.