There was a columnist named Mike Barnicle who wrote for the Boston Globe. I believe he fancied himself a modern-day H.L. Mencken because his columns generally took a rather snarky tone.

Occasionally, when he was probably feeling like I do today, he wrote a column of random observations that started with the line, "not that it matters, but..."

In other words, he did memes before there were memes.

Sometimes that's all you can dredge up when the deadline bears down. Norman Rockwell once painted a Saturday Evening Post cover showing himself, sitting in front of a blank canvas scratching his head in frustration.

I've been working for the United States Census since August 4. Some of you already know that. I'm an enumerator, which means I go to addresses the Census tells me to visit and interview people whose information the Census does not have. Mostly, folks aren't home, but I've met some very nice people. I've also met--well, didn't really meet because I didn't actually see them, just heard them--a few people who are very, very untrusting. I try hard to look harmless, but I don't always succeed.

Working for the Census is like a Dr. Seuss book: "Oh, the Places You'll Go!" I've interviewed several people who told me how amazed they were that I found their house. I'm very good at finding houses, a necessary skill here in Winchendon where it seems a significant percentage of homes don't actually have any numbers on them. Street signs, too, have a tendency to be MIA here. Let's not even talk about apartment numbers in this town. Thank goodness for Google Maps.

In between Census shifts I work on the Courier, and on my other part time job, and on my freelance gigs, so I've been pretty tired lately. The weather has not been making things easier. My first day out in the field was the day Tropical Storm Isaias passed through. I was standing in front of a home attempting to talk to the owner and both my cell phones (mine and the Census phone) started blaring "Tornado Warning" alerts from their weather apps. The second time this happened, I figured I'd quit for the day. This week, I've been out enumerating with heat advisories up (neither my house nor my car is air-conditioned). I've had several long town board meetings to listen to and write up, and after all that, I don't even have the concentration to watch old reruns.

I also have been wearing a face mask for five hours at a stretch during my Census shifts, since my mask has ties and is a pain to take off and put back on. So far, I have not keeled over from oxygen deprivation, suffered from CO2 poisoning, or gotten sick from "breathing my own germs"--even with all the hiking up long steep driveways and flights of steps that I've been doing. I'm just as tired of "masking up" to go outside as you are, but it's doing me no harm, just making me cranky.

Fall is coming, undeterred by pandemics. The Census will be done by September 30. School will start one way or another on September 14. Annual Town Meeting is planned for September 28. And September 12 will be the one year anniversary of the first edition of the Winchendon Courier to appear under the masthead of my publishing company, By Light Unseen Media. We haven't missed a single week.

It's been one heck of a year.

Inanna Arthen