Hello again from Los Angeles. It's unseasonably overcast and "cold" here, which means about 60 degrees. Many of the women I pass on the sidewalk this morning are clutching themselves like Poor Little Match Girls.
I had been told that our Los Angeles office is in the "bad" part of town but that must have a different meaning than in New York. The streets and sidewalks are wide, clean and well lit and handsomely landscaped. (I like the trees here; not just the palms, but a hardy variety I don't know the name of that lines the streets and resembles much larger, fuller versions of Bonsai trees). The buildings are mostly fancy new skyscrapers but the classics are well-preserved; the one containing our local office dates from 1927. Beautiful ornamental scrollwork arcs over the entrance, like that of a gothic church. Even the homeless people here radiate glamor and charm, like they're actors playing homeless people, which I suppose they may just be.
My body's all jangly from the time difference, plus the fact that I forced myself to get up at fucking 6 a.m. local time so I could maximize my East Coast phone-work. Working remotely sucks. I can't access my Excel documents on the home server. My grandma moves faster than this elderly ThinkPad. And I refuse to give out my cell number to casual business acquaintances which means I call my voicemail in New York every half-hour for updates.