CORRECTION: March 23rd

On yesterday's article about the county's public garden, it was mentioned that the flowers bloomed on March 21st, when in fact, they bloomed on March 16th. We apologize for any inconvenience and/or confusion this might have caused to gardeners and landscape architects.

CORRECTION: March 11th

On today's article about the deficiencies found on the North Side neighborhood's school district, we made a grammatical error. The phrase "high school-girls" has been corrected to read "high-school girls".
While we can't be certain, we definitively did not meant to convey that the girls in question were under the influence of narcotics, the intention was to state their level of study.

On the early hours of a cold Saturday morning, Miss Pegg woke up from an overwhelmingly  vivid dream where she had misstated the Mayor’s cat’s name. Her eyes were wide open and a sweat drop ran through her back as she sat down on her bed. Three Mayors ago, a contributor for the politics’ section of the second most read newspaper of the region, wrote a column about the Mayor’s daily life, where the family dog took center stage. Being a fervid dog person, the Mayor and his crisis team went on a rampage against the newspaper, which resulted on a collective apology from everyone at the newspaper, and a personal apology from the contributor, who, after much consideration and restless nights, had to resign from his coveted position, and started a bird house business on the outskirts of the city.

With that story in mind, Miss Pegg tried to calm herself down by folding her socks correctly, and checked that day’s articles on the political page. To her dismay, her dream was not only true, but it was worst than imagined. Just like every Sunday, a clever analytic article on local politics was published as a way of distracting the readers from more serious news, such as the reconstruction of a lion-like statue with no eyes, or the overspending of the parks department’s secretary on high quality napkins.

That day’s article was about the mysterious and oh-so-interesting details of the Mayor’s residence and its inhabitants, including O.J., the distinguished family cat. Being a fervid cat person, the Mayor trusted O.J. to fix his own problems, and he certainly did. 

When Miss Pegg realized that they had misstated O.J.’s name, by calling him P.J., she knew she had to verify the correct spelling, and punctuation of his actual name, so she sneaked into the Mayor’s residence at 12:34 p.m., to check on the cat’s name tag. The iron fence  was too narrow, and Miss Pegg got stuck in between two posts right after verifying the cat’s tag, unable to move, while O.J.  pranced right in front of her, knowing that he had fixed it all, including punishing the human.

Even though the original mistake was caused by typing P instead of O because of their proximity on the keyboard, Miss Pegg knew this was definitely a triumph over ignorance and careless writing. Definitely. The newspaper was still safe from scrutiny, and harmful political revenge.  

CORRECTION: March 5th

A hateful article about the ex-boyfriend of one of our columnists was included by mistake on today's Entertainment section. We apologize to her ex-boyfriend, to readers of the Entertainment section, and, although not our fault per se, to everybody else who identified themselves as victims of the article by virtue of their guilty consciousness. While being very well written, her broken heart was not intended for entertainment purposes beyond our office environment. 

CORRECTION: February 27th

On today's article about the ban on high-sugar drinks in elementary schools, a word was misspelled when citing an interview with a parent. We wrote "-There was a pop-up desert station, where kids spent a couple of hours. The school provided sugary drinks when they expressed extreme thirst, but the administration could have provided water instead."
The word desert has been changed for the word dessert. While both instances would cause some thirst among children, the school is not engaged in any type of natural and/or ecological torture in the form of man-made extreme environments, such as deserts.

CORRECTION: February 18th

The photo caption has been corrected to reflect actual facts; the President was scratching his ear, not his nose.

CORRECTION: February 10th

A misspell has been corrected on the article. We meant to write the word chess, as in the board game, not cheese, as in cheese fries.

CORRECTION: January 20th.

On a previous version of this article, we wrote that during the interview, Senator Williams was sitting on a reclining chair. A correction has been made to reflect reality; he was actually sitting on a rocking chair.

As she approached her cubicle, now turned into an office thanks to the large poly-carbonate sheets acting as walls, and the black and white curtain, for a door, Miss Pegg remembered how she got to be in charge of editing every single error, for every single article at the regional newspaper. A few years ago, she had interned for the editor-in-chief, and left a lasting impression (mostly because of her loud steps) that pay back after grad school. After finishing her thesis, “Tea, what is it good for?”, she went straight back to her old boss’ office. When he couldn't find a job that sounded sufficiently important, he created one: ‘Corrections’ editor”.  It sounded pretty judicial to her, but it sure was a prime title in the third, sometimes fourth, most-read newspaper in the area.

Fast forward five and a half years, she was still in the same cubicle, with the same chair, and the same hair style. Her stationary geographical position was partly due to the inability of the administration to channel extra money to rearrange the office instead of keeping a top-notch free-snack room, but also, because on her 85th  day on the job, she spilled chai tea on the grey carpet, and she covered the stain with a turkish rug that looked old from the very beginning. She was not going to move cubicles, and explain that the rug with ‘lots and lots of character!’ was not an spontaneous act of expression, but a meditated attempt to cover up an error. She was convinced that her job was important and necessary, even though, after five and a half years, only three readers had complained about an error.
A double negative here, an unintended sexual innuendo over there, and the third, sometimes fourth, most-read newspaper in the area, would lose its impeccable reputation.

After a few months, tracing everybody’s steps to identify minuscule mistakes, can surely turn someone into an utterly perfect being; if she was in charge of perfection, she had to embody it, and that’s why she arranged her vegetables by color, and her plants by leaf size.
As a way of dealing with the overwhelming task of fixing  everybody’s stupidity, she secretly illustrated the most relevant corrections she made, hoping that, one day, her drawings will clearly illustrate to the future Correction’s editor, the type of mistakes one has to catch in order to keep the Earth spinning.

Miss Pegg worked until 10 pm every day, and left her office/cubicle with a smile on her face, a dictionary on her desk, and a stain of ink on her hand, wishing for the sun to come up again and continue keeping the order in the Universe.