it's like i work

in Brooklyn. To the office i went, trudging through rain and about 30 blocks (I got off on the wrong subway stop). Soaked and tired I landed on the top floor of brick exposed, old building almost under the Manhattan bridge with big sky windows that look out on the Hudson and Manhattan. How Becca has never described her daily view boggles me a bit. I could just live here. And I'm sure people do. These would be called studios, loft style, one room, impossibly trendy and city-like. There's even a loft, for- the bedroom, i would guess.

I could do this. Well, for today I could. I'm sure the office life, even the chilled, laid back open office style of this office would get old and even that sky line, that amazing view would wear away at some point and only be a blip in the back of your mind, a calling card of a busy life over your shoulder. Then again, this environment breathes of importance and new life, like having no walls, no cubicles, means you are like a 60's era campaign headquarters where battles are fought, men in button down shirts with no ties pound on desks in excitement of defeating some conservative monster agenda.

So, I'm sitting here, in Brooklyn, in an office and I don't want to go out. I'm done. New York has done it's thing for me. I've left some things still on the to do list, but that's how I leave a city, with something undone, so that I will return to un-undo them. And I will be here again, in all these exact places. Hopefully sooner than you or I even think.

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