Of (Heart)Beats and Bylines [Completed]

Chapter 42- New Role

Hi all!  Sorry, had to republish.   I forgot to put the timeline.  This chapter is still a flashback. :)  

Some 15 months ago (still taking off from Chapter 39- The Party)

"Good afternoon, Ms. Maine. Here are your new business cards," said the Human Resources Assistant, Gemma.

I glanced at the boxes of cards she shoved in front of me. Hmmm... not bad.

Nicomaine Mendoza

Assistant Editor

"Thank you," I said with a nod as I received the cards and smiled at the young staff. It has been a month since I got promoted to this new role. I am now Sir Andy's right-hand man. Or woman.

The adjustment now is far greater as this promotion is vastly different from my last where I only progressed from reporter to senior reporter. In my first promotion, only my titled moved up a notch but all the other duties and responsibilities stayed the same. Oh, ok. I got assigned to bigger stories and the accountability to information accuracy, comprehensiveness, and fairness were emphasized more than ever. And yep, my salary went up a bit too.

Now as assistant editor, my everyday life revolves around reviewing reporters' works for sense and readability. I make sure that we can produce the supporting documents on the facts we present. Sometimes, I even come up with illustrations such as graphs to make our articles clearer and more interesting.

Editing was never my forte back in college. I find changing someone else's work harder than just whipping out a computer and re-writing the whole thing myself. But this is my reality now-- if i want to move up the journalism ladder, this is something I have to learn and eventually master.

"It's time for our coffee break!" Sam's enthusiastic greeting brought me out of my musings.

This. I miss Sam's company! I miss going out and immersing myself in the heart of the news story. I miss piecing together data I gathered and turning them into one cohesive material to inform people matters of national importance. As editors, we still get writing assignments, albeit occasionally. At the moment however, Sir Andy wants me to concentrate on the editing aspect of my new position.

"How's your new partner?" I asked Sam as we took the flight of stairs and proceeded to the office cafeteria.

"She's too much of a newbie," she answered without mincing words.

Ouch. "Ikaw naman. Dumaan din ako dyan," I said in defense of our section's new reporter.

"Yeah but it was different with you. Bago ka pa lang nun pero alam mo na talaga yung ginagawa mo."

I smiled. "Friendship goals ka talaga, Sam," I joked as we sat down in one booth.

"Anyway, she has potential. I guess she has confidence issues?"

The image of our new colleague's timid tendencies came to my mind. "Yeah. Let's give her more time. It's only been a month and magaling naman siya magsulat."

"She just needs to be more aggressive when it comes to fieldwork, like in interviews and all that. It's the best way to squeeze out breaking and exclusive scoops. You know what I mean? Anyway, how are your classes this semester?" Sam asked, changing the conversation to a topic that made me let out a sigh.

"They are not as fun as the last semester's. I'm not too fond of one of my professors. Parang simpleng topic, ginagawang komplikado? Alam mo yun?"

Sam laughed. "There are professors like that."

Before she and I could exhaust our 15-minute afternoon break, I approached the cafeteria staff to ask for their copy of today's The Post. RJ's science and environment subsection comes out today and I haven't checked on his article.

Environmental Groups Urge Philippines to Phase Out Coal

By Richard Faulkerson Jr.

I read his article avidly. "Ate, pwede sa akin na lang 'tong section na to? Kukunin ko pag uuwi na ako," I requested from the staff who passed by our booth.

Sam giggled in the corner. "After all these years, kinikilig pa rin ako sa inyo."

Sam's right. Last month, RJ and I marked anniversary number two. I am a proud girlfriend who collects all her favorite guy's articles. Ever since RJ started his correspondent role in The Post, I would cut out every single article of his and compile them in one big folder.

"We better get going. Editorial conference time," I explained to Sam as we both stood to head back to our respective offices.

This meeting is snooze inducing, I thought as I resorted to flipping the pages of my new planner. It's only late February so fiddling with my new planner is still fascinating for me. It still looks, smells, and feels so new, I thought as I appreciated its design and layout.

I looked at the calendar and went on to mark this year's important dates. So far the year's calendar only had one mark... then realization hit me with voluminous waves of internal panic! That lone mark there was the reminder of my last menses and it showed that I should have gotten my period two weeks ago.

Did I get it a fortnight ago? I honestly could not remember. Did it just slip my mind to mark the calendar? My memory is on a complete blank. I'm trying to rack my brain for an answer and yet there was none.

Shit.

"What do you think, Nicomaine?" I heard Sir Andy ask in the background.

"Sir?" I tried very hard to act as if everything was normal.

"What do you think? Should we include this topic in tomorrow's issue?" he pressed on.

"Umm... may I be excused?" I answered instead.

I ran to the nearest ladies' room to control my hyperventilation. Okay, self breathe in, breathe out, I told my reflection in the mirror after splashing my face with running water. Here's what you should do. As soon as you get home, check on your packs of pads. This was easy for me to gauge since I know my consumption every month: two packs of eight for the regular kind and one pack of eight for the overnight variant.

Maybe I just forgot. I hope.

With this new editing position and this semester's toxic professor, life has been so fast paced that it's been easy to let muscle memory take charge.

I gathered my wits to rejoin today's editorial conference. I choose to focus on the meeting instead of obsessing over something I don't have an answer to. At least not yet, anyway.

That night, I drove to the house as fast as I could. I was supposed to have dinner with some college friends but unfortunately I begged off. It was a pity since I hardly see them, but I had an urgent matter to take care of.

I ran to my en-suite bathroom as soon as I got home. There, sitting nicely on the side shelf are my packs of pads.

Untouched. Unmoved. Unopened.