and... we're back to work

whew. ok. now i remember why i used to come home and faceplant on the sofa. i also remember the air conditioning phenomenon - 95 degrees outside with 82% humidity and i'm pacing around the office, wishing i had a sweatshirt. i'm packing a pashmina tomorrow, as ridiculous as that sounds.

back home, i used to have a pretty decent commute - my house was 10 minutes from the train, and my office was about 15 minutes on the other end. my team was pretty much all late birds like me - roll in an hour later than everyone else (well, ok, i was always the latest except for kat over on the other side), and i'd usually be able to sniff out someone else burning the midnight oil to walk to the train with at night. you never know what kind of walls you can break down in those 15 minutes at the end of the day. i always thought walking to the train was a pain in the ass, but in retrospect i think that little bit of space between office and home was a good thing. sometimes a lot of space, like 3 hours and 9 glasses of wine and the bleary realization that your new boss is hitting on you, but most times just some walking time helps. i think i connected with people more during those walks than any other time during those five years.

today i stepped out of the office into the warm, humid air and realized i was doing it all over again. things are different, of course; i'm a bit steadier and i have significantly fewer obligations, i'm walking by myself, not flanked by colleagues, not to mention the whole different country thing - a man helping his toddler son urinate in a planter as i walked by was reminder enough - but things are essentially falling back into the same rhythm.

i remember my first day at w-s; the guy i was dating at the time was unable to contain his excitement about the fact that i - his significantly younger girlfriend - was buckling down and finally entering a more tame period in her life. i was becoming a more viable candidate, i suppose. he sent a pretty fucking amazing bouquet from rayon vert and the card read, 'and the next chapter begins.' that sentence embodied so much at the time - apropos but rife with his condescending approval for an oh-so-young carolyn stepping out in her platform shoes. and, oddly enough, i still haven't forgotten it, despite the many many things that have happened since then. i went from loving rayon vert to adoring rose & radish, then on to pinon design. funny how many florists you can love in a lifetime.