A day with the copy desk

What happens if you sell access to the copy desk? I finally took time to read this fictional account at Poynter. There's some good stuff there. (Bob is the visitor.)

* 10:30 a.m. - Bob goes down with me to the cafeteria with a co-worker to hear the latest rumor about the position on our desk that's been open for four months. ("It's ABOUT to be filled - maybe!")
* 11 a.m. - Bob watches me send a reminder e-mail to the section chief that the centerpiece due at 6 p.m. last night still isn't in.
* 11:15 a.m. - Bob watches me look up the "fund raising, fund-raising,
fund-raiser" entry in the AP Stylebook for the 48th time this year.
* Noon - Bob watches me read a reply e-mail that the centerpiece is being *polished* and will be in my hands at 2 p.m.
* 12:30 a.m. - Bob watches me laboriously edit a couple of other little four-inch wire stories that have trickled in. ("How many times have you run a Britney story this week?" Bob asks. "Who's counting?" I reply.)

What does it make me think of? The Star-Tribune's headline contest prize: a night with the copy desk.