Mike Birbiglia and blown deadlines: a tragedy.
Yesterday one of my music writers (I’m an editor, so I oversee a handful of freelancers. No real authority, mostly herding cats) informed me she wasn’t going to be filing her column this week. Our main editor (the one with actual authority) is on vacation and so we have a guest editor (which is not me, thank sweet baby Jesus) and our deadline was early.
Today. (Normally on Sunday.)
So yesterday I was told I had 22 column inches to fill. I blinked a lot. Because it’s the only thing I know how to do when I’m freaking out.
Then this morning Mike Birbiglia emailed me back answers from an email interview we sent him earlier this week that we were not totally certain we were going to get answers to.
GUYS, let’s be clear: Mike Birbiglia is a God among men, a gentleman, a funny dude AND prompt. We asked for them back by Friday morning (fully expecting to be blown off like we were by Macklemore, Yelawolf, Brett Dennen and several others in recent weeks) and we got them back by Friday morning.
Now, I have to pull an article out of my ass. Which I should have filed to my editor by…nowish. But I went to go see Debbie Does Dallas: The Musical (which was amazing, btdubs.) and I’m a little tipsy and there is no fucking way I’m going to be able to do Mike “Best Person Ever” Birbiglia justice.
This is the first time I’ve blown a deadline. I mean, I told the guest editor it would be in the morning and she’s fine with it because I don’t even have edits back on the first story I filed with her earlier this week. (Ya’ll remember my break up recipe? It’s been refined for print.)
Basically, tl;dr is I blew a deadline, I feel like a jerk, but Mike Birbiglia is an amazing human being and I’m freaking out about writing about him because I’m a huge fan and it’s hard to write about things you fangirl about.
Well, when it’s not on your own blog. Or Dr. Who. I could write graduate level dissertations on Dr. Who.