Is it Friday Yet?

I am so completely exhausted... Sometimes my work week just feel like one extremely long neverending Monday. People sometimes can't conceptualize my definition of the word "busy" so to paint a better picture, it typically means having 150 emails to respond to, having clients demand lenghty proposals within the next fifteen minutes (or else I could potentially lose the business), having my internal phone buzz me while three lines on my regular phone rings simultaneously, then throw my boss's demands for me to come into his office so he can rant about something I deem a complete waste of time / chat about what he recently bought on eBay or demand xyz "right away"! And have this go on for 9-10 hours straight - every day. I think because of this, I enjoy my "down time" more so than any other person with the exception of some investment bankers I know.

I nearly snapped today and my boss's spidey senses must've been sharper than norm because he suggested we get an intern. I immediately shrieked and offered to drop everything I was doing to write up the job description. I promise to be a good leader and not make anyone get my coffee (I adore the one Starbucks guy that makes my daily caffinated beverage just the way I like it). I will truly appreciate my intern and never ever yell.. I promise!

When I leave the office while the sun is starting to set, (or after it's already set during the winter months) I've learned to decompress by walking down Fifth Avenue. Fifth Avenue becomes quite romantic and beautiful in the evenings after all the tourists leave. I pop into Zara, Armani Exchange (love those co-ed dressing rooms), Saks Fifth Ave, walk into St. Patrick's Cathedral, say a quick prayer to protect my loved ones and pray harder for my own strength and sanity..

Now that it's Spring in NYC, the party season is back in full swing. No more burden of puffy coats, scarves, gloves and boots - bring on the flirty dresses and open toe shoes!

This past Saturday, NYU Stern held its Annual Spring Fling complete with fabulously dressed guests and overgenerous open bar. After two Cosmopolitans (or was it three?) and one ginormous shot of my fave lemon drop with sweet sugar, I knew I had to leave before my speech started to slur. I woke up in the middle of the night with my head feeling like it's been whacked with a hammer. Maybe I didn't need that last shot... Thank goodness I was without camera or else there would been hundreds of photos of complete strangers, me with complete strangers, lots of tail shaking on the dance floor and probably ones that could be used for potential blackmail. I'm not sure. The memory's a bit fuzzy.

PS. A quick shout out J out in MN. You keep me writing. xxoo