The reading, the dream, the concourse, the chair

I went to Wendy's book reading last night but sadly got there after she'd already read because that's the kind of friend I am. It's the job, I tell you, I had to work late! I ran into another college friend who's just given notice to go freelance. "So you can watch TV, sleep and get a puppy?" I asked. He said YES in a way that is more affirmative than just a simple YES would imply. More like YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! "It's the freelance dream," I said, but up to that point I didn't quite realize how much the dog is part of everyone's freelance dream. And no, I'm not living that dream, but that's okay too because I have a jade plant named Fred and am working on a chest infection. Not really! Mom and Dad, if you're reading this, I feel a little hoarse and my throat hurts but chest infection really is going too far.

Today I discovered the labrynthian shopping concourse beneath the building I'm now working in which connects to the subway! I thought this would be a way to avoid the elements but it's pretty cold down there. Still, if it had been snowing I would have avoided the snow—except I left after the subway entrance closed. But I went to the underground Duane Reade earlier in the day and enjoyed the frigid covered access. On my way out of the building I stopped by the Red Eye green room, making my evening rounds, to say hello to my favorite makeup and hair people and anyone else I might know in there. I think I actually walked in and said "hi, I came to brighten your evening with the joy that is my presence." Then I complained for about 15 minutes and left. Not really. 12 minutes. Thursday I'll be in the hot girl chair I think, which is good except it means I can't wear my usual waist-down attire of hotpants and thigh high boots, which is what I'm always wearing in the newsroom when you just see me from chest up. Dang!