Let me fact check that for you
Many of you probably know already that I was promoted to freelance reporter. I'm still crying happy tears. Let me explain my position a bit to you, as I keep getting the same questions: "freelance, cool! do you work from home? how many days do you work?" and "so what do you write about?"
Let me clarify: freelance doesn't necessarily mean someone works from home and sets their own hours. In my position, it basically means "as needed" but I will never be sent home or told not to come in...I work 40 hours a week in a window office. And unfortunately I am not writing, yet. My main responsibility is to fact check. My company prides itself on its reporting and fact-checking skills to ensure it only publishes factually correct content.
Who ensures that? Me. I get assigned pages daily and I have to ensure every word, every picture, every product, every credit, and every quote is accurate. In the words of the editor, "20 editors may miss it but you cannot." And if I miss one thing...I'm out. It's that serious. Challenge accepted. It gives me a chance to give my opinion on the wording of stories and to discuss each story with editors, photographers, copyeditors, and designers.
You know what else I'm excited for? Weekends. A real life. Evenings at home. Evenings with friends. I feel like a normal human being for once.
My first weekend off was Memorial weekend and my mom came to visit. We drank and ate to our heart's delight, explored (did you know there's a tram that goes to Roosevelt island?), and shopped (three more pairs of shoes to add to my overflowing pile of shoes). We had brunch (brunch!) on her last day and celebrated with BLT bloody mary's (bacon!).
Two weekends later I was jamming at Governors Ball, my first music festival. On the first day of summer my friends planned a beach trip and asked if I could go. Let me check my work schedule....oh WAIT, of course I can go! Although I've had a never-ending cold since Governors Ball I haven't let that stop me from living. Sudafed, beer, and sun, that's what the doctor ordered, right?
To my friends who wouldn't get in the ocean with me: wussies.
Who ensures that? Me. I get assigned pages daily and I have to ensure every word, every picture, every product, every credit, and every quote is accurate. In the words of the editor, "20 editors may miss it but you cannot." And if I miss one thing...I'm out. It's that serious. Challenge accepted. It gives me a chance to give my opinion on the wording of stories and to discuss each story with editors, photographers, copyeditors, and designers.
You know what else I'm excited for? Weekends. A real life. Evenings at home. Evenings with friends. I feel like a normal human being for once.
My first weekend off was Memorial weekend and my mom came to visit. We drank and ate to our heart's delight, explored (did you know there's a tram that goes to Roosevelt island?), and shopped (three more pairs of shoes to add to my overflowing pile of shoes). We had brunch (brunch!) on her last day and celebrated with BLT bloody mary's (bacon!).
Two weekends later I was jamming at Governors Ball, my first music festival. On the first day of summer my friends planned a beach trip and asked if I could go. Let me check my work schedule....oh WAIT, of course I can go! Although I've had a never-ending cold since Governors Ball I haven't let that stop me from living. Sudafed, beer, and sun, that's what the doctor ordered, right?
To my friends who wouldn't get in the ocean with me: wussies.
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