My last day

Today was my last day on the show I've been producing for three years. (Monday, I start as a host on another show.)

I've had a hell of a time at this job. The show has a crazy-ass deadline - most of the people who really know me know that if they called me before 2:30 pm during the week, it better be because someone died. I've gone nuts trying to pull the show together until the last possible second countless times. I've done the dash from the control room to the newsroom and back a bajillion times, grabbing some last-minute thing we needed or burning some interview to CD to ensure it played exactly when we needed it. (My co-workers know to get out of my way when it's almost 1 pm and they see me running - especially if I'm running to the bathroom because it's been such an intense day my stomach has decided to rebel.) I've argued with guests and "communications professionals" about our news coverage or about not allowing some luminary to blather on long enough. I've yelled at my interns. I've yelled at the show's engineer. I've yelled at the host. I've screamed profanities in front of my bosses when something goes wrong. I've lost sleep and fought over station resources and complained endlessly and gotten fed up and fantasized about quitting and now that I'm at the end of this, I'm so sad. I've loved every second of it. This job forced me to step up my game and make better radio. The host I worked with did the same. Because he's so freaking good at his job, I wanted to make sure I was worthy of doing the work too. I am going to miss working with him so, so much.

I don't regret leaving though. I'm sure I'll love my new job. It'll be really exciting to do something new, and tell stories on the radio in this way that I'm still very green at. But, man. Today is a sad day. I'm only moving like 15 feet in the newsroom, but still. I kind of feel like I'm never coming back.