The best and brightest of NYC

I know that I said I wouldn't blog about work. And I really meant it. However...

After 15 hours of travel, we got back from Whistler at the crispy hour of 2am, me flinging toiletries around in a rabid search for Ambien. The cats, ecstatic by the warm bodies of their favorite victims, harrassed us by walking back and forth across the bed, dropping "naturally unscented" poo pebbles on the clean sheets. I woke up clinging to a dream about being crushed in a tsunami.

"Rise and shine," Rob called from the bathroom. As I stumbled to the shower, he leaned towards me. "I see rising," he observed. "But no shining."

Which pretty much sums up the day. I tried, though. I wore a bright purple sweater and put on makeup. I drank a double latte. I smiled.

And I talked. Which is what I do at work all day. Towards the end of the afternoon I wearily answered my phone to find one of my client's stuttering new interns on the other end. Overly formal and entirely clueless, he tried to explain to me what he needed. Was it then completely rude when I said:

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

?

Evidently someone was sitting right next to him, because after some muffled whispering, he tried to explain his question again. I imagined an authority figure who, having dropped a bunch of lingo onto this kid without explaining what it meant, was now sitting there listening, wasting my time. I literally could not understand the conversation. I will briefly consider the possibility that this had something to do with my sleep deprivation and subsequent medication.

"Is there someone else there with you?" I asked flatly. Not-so-hidden meaning: let me talk to that person.

Instead of answering, the little pioneer handed off the phone to his intern twin, who proved only slightly more coherent--enough so that I could understand that they were confused about an accounting issue. Not my strong suit, as if it mattered.

"Ok..." I said slowly, mad at myself for not being nicer and also for not really caring that I wasn't being nicer. "What is your question?"

"Dude," he whispered, half covering the receiver, "She sounds hot."