First, let me begin by saying, don’t buy the new 3G iPhone. As I write, I am sure I’ll soon regret smashing it into a million little pieces. “HULK DOESN’T LIKE TO EAT MASH POTATOES!” (Right Kate?)

I bring up the iPhone, as once again, its alarm functionality failed to wake me up today, sending me into a dizzying free for all of lame excuses to my RW1 professors for not attending class. After several spelling corrections, I managed to SMS to Pam, “Hi Pam, I’m sorry. I overslept. I’ll be there in one hour. I live in Brooklyn.” It was the best I could come up with at 9:08am. The story gets better, as after frantically commuting to campus, I emerge from the subway to receive an SMS from Pam reminding me that class was canceled today, as she went over again and again last week. Great. Well, thank god I finished my story on the intersection of the Vietnamese community and local government in NYC by 10am today. Or at least, that’s what I thought until my classmate Emily reminded me that it was due at 6pm, not 9am this morning. And to think I planned to wake up early to complete finish it. Thank god, I overslept til 9am! Right?

I bring all these shortcomings up, as I found myself bashing this assignment and any lingering interest I had in reporting or writing in the process. I went so far as to Twitter, “Is it wrong that I hate writing and reporting? Does that make me a bad journalist?” (I believe the answer to that question is a resounding YES.) But as luck would have it, I had plenty of free time this afternoon to write. So when two of my government story sources got back to me mid-morning, I was able to adequately put together a decent article of mild journalistic taste. And my improved mood dramatically began to revitalize my interest in the allure of reporting.

I’ve always said that the best part of publishing is how each issue is a new project, complete with its own intricacies, budgets, complications and deadlines. You’ve got to know everything about a range of issues better than and before the next guy. I now include reporting in that reflection of career and personal taste. Waking up to a rw1 daybook assignment and attempting to gain a thorough understanding of a subject – I’m hitting up NYC’s Commissioner of Child Services tomorrow on “the increasing role foster parents play in caring for children with emotional and mental health issues” – in less than day challenges the intellect and flexes the tongue.

I’m not alone, a few hours after posting my last Tweet, another multimedia reporter wrote to me saying, “I don’t like writing either. I do love reporting though.”