Chocolate, Cheese, and Children

Today was the beginning of "that time" on the Hill; the beginning of "silly season," "March Madness," or appropriations season. Even though all of the usual letters of support for disease research, green jobs, or school counselor funding have yet to come across our desks, and they are soon to come, meetings upon meetings upon meetings have arrived.

This week I have 18 staff level meetings, and additional three meetings with my boss. Staff level meetings are those meetings that, while really no less important than Member meetings, have been given to staff on the basis of time management - there are 5 legislative staffers and one Member (thank the lord) so we get a ton of meetings to help manage his time between hearings, votes and his own list of meetings. The product of these meetings (our memos) all come to our boss, and it is our job to relay the message of the National Association of Picture Frame Builders (Wednesday at 10:40am) or the American Fellowship of Bookbinders (Thursday at 9:20am) and their legislative agenda for the year. It is our mission to wade through and not be distracted by the musical confusion of their plight and hold them up to our boss' agenda (the carpal tunnel insurance coverage issues of The US Academy of Stringed Instrument Musicians, for instance). What if it doesn't match? Well, then we still need to make sure he knows what they want if, just in case, he sits down on a plane next to one of them and they take him by one of their mangled hands - he needs to be prepared.

So I have digressed and my title needs explanation. This is also the season of children. No, not spring, rebirth and life, etc., but school groups. Yes, kind of like lambs. The combination of professional lobbyists, wide-eyed volunteer advocates, and scampering, yet wayward eighth graders, makes navigating our quaint cafeterias murderous. Wait. No. Navigating our quaint cafeterias with such a...zoo...creates the throbbing impulse for murder. It's about this time of year that one of us makes the adventure downstairs or across to Longworth before the others and then comes back with a shelled shock look and stringcheese, or bag of chips, because upon entering and viewing nothing but a sea of bodies flowing back and forth like kelp in the cafeteria you run to the vending machine and PRAY that the Harvest Cheddar Sun Chips haven't been taken by the previous staffer who saw the same Sargasso Sea but moments before.

But, this is also the time that when you DO happen to find a wonderful morsel (today's was the chocolate, berry and arugala salad in Rayburn) and a short line you have to eat and run - this does not mean a quick sit and then jaunt back to the office, this is actually eating WHILE running. Undignfied, yes, but so is completely losing your patience when the advocate from the Unified Northwest Diaper Industry Employees, Local 123 goes off on the use of E-Verify for ensuring the use of skilled, legal labor, while telling you that your boss doesn't do enough to secure the borders and protecting their jobs for 'Mericans. Food is a good thing.

So we persist. I mean we persevere. We find a way to get through to the end of one day, write our memos and then onto another one. My morning strategy to find this path has become very simple; Gain conscienceness at 6:51am - hit snooze. At 7am, listen to the headlines on WAMU, and then get up and jump on the rollers for 30 minutes while I watch Matt Lauer scare the living daylights out of me with what I shouldn't eat, shouldn't drive, and where I shouldn't vacation. Then shower, grab a Slimfast and then out the door.

More children, more crazy, and hopefully an opportunity to leave a tiny thumbprint on this town.

More soon, I promise.