Nightshift. It's unpleasant, but there is one perk, you can often have long periods of calm.
Not last night.
Last night was as hard as I've worked on any night shift. It was relentless. 12 hours of constant rushed cutting and by the end I was a pudding of a man.
As an editor you use your short term memory like no other role I've ever done, and I've done my share. You have to remember minute detail from a wide array of sources within an extremely compressed time period. If you're working on the same piece it's not a problem, whether that piece lasts 1 hour or the whole day. It's when you work on multiple pieces in depth back to back that your brain starts to fail.
For the computer literate, I describe it as human RAM and you only have a finite amount before you need to reset. Certainly if I don't have breaks between cuts to get some air, have a drink and clear my head, I start to slow down and it effects everything I do.
Not only do I start to forget where pictures are or what story I'm working on, but I start to forget which keys do what and certainly can't hold a conversation. Even simple questions become hard to answer as I become further transfixed on completing the task at hand.
I'm sure many reporters/producers who have worked with me over the years and asked me an off-topic question during this state will have been confused by the corresponding stare as I A: try to search through the brain sludge to figure out what they've asked me, and B: drag myself out of the cerebral quicksand to come up with the response.
I can certainly recall on a number of occasions being verbally abused at this juncture. Helpful.
The only cure is rest. So this morning when I got back to the hotel, I crashed. So quickly I didn't actually set my alarm.
I woke up an hour and a half later than usual, literally with 5 minutes to get downstairs and meet my driver. The usual routine went out the window and I myself contemplated that route to save time.
I made it work by the hair on my teeth and am now settling in for another long turn at bat.
It's like I never left.
Not last night.
Last night was as hard as I've worked on any night shift. It was relentless. 12 hours of constant rushed cutting and by the end I was a pudding of a man.
As an editor you use your short term memory like no other role I've ever done, and I've done my share. You have to remember minute detail from a wide array of sources within an extremely compressed time period. If you're working on the same piece it's not a problem, whether that piece lasts 1 hour or the whole day. It's when you work on multiple pieces in depth back to back that your brain starts to fail.
For the computer literate, I describe it as human RAM and you only have a finite amount before you need to reset. Certainly if I don't have breaks between cuts to get some air, have a drink and clear my head, I start to slow down and it effects everything I do.
Not only do I start to forget where pictures are or what story I'm working on, but I start to forget which keys do what and certainly can't hold a conversation. Even simple questions become hard to answer as I become further transfixed on completing the task at hand.
I'm sure many reporters/producers who have worked with me over the years and asked me an off-topic question during this state will have been confused by the corresponding stare as I A: try to search through the brain sludge to figure out what they've asked me, and B: drag myself out of the cerebral quicksand to come up with the response.
I can certainly recall on a number of occasions being verbally abused at this juncture. Helpful.
The only cure is rest. So this morning when I got back to the hotel, I crashed. So quickly I didn't actually set my alarm.
I woke up an hour and a half later than usual, literally with 5 minutes to get downstairs and meet my driver. The usual routine went out the window and I myself contemplated that route to save time.
I made it work by the hair on my teeth and am now settling in for another long turn at bat.
It's like I never left.
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