![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Today, probably the first summery day in New York. I took a stroll down Madison in midtown, on a short errand, and marveled at the bobbing heads of the crowds around me. It's like out of the old-timey reels of old-school New York, the sorts of things you view as a kid in the midwest and think, Gosh, how can any place in the world be like this. But there it is, construction workers amongst tourists amongst office workers headed to lunch. In eighty degree weather, the first sunny day after a few dreary days of rain and fog. The city sighs a breath of relief. I never want to leave this place.
My admissions ticket to be sworn in to the New York State Bar arrived today! Finally, at long last, this little source of constant anxiety over the past two years is reaching its resolution. For months, this has been a thing that has sat at the back of my mind, while I've been busy working or just escaping from work, needing to be handled. And then, at the end, it was a race to beat a shorter-than-expected deadline. But I did it! It's done!
Spent the day in the office. Not all of it working, but I did spend some time scowling at a term sheet and preliminary documentation regarding a securities offering. Learned a bit about tax law, securities law. What makes a stock option an option? That kind of thing.
I am reading Pynchon's Against the Day. Like most of his "literary" work, it jumps from place to place, with a common voice and tone, but its relationship to reality always attenuated and impressionistic.
Else, not much going on. Today was a beautiful day in New York. Nick hung out in Central Park with the "gang," while I spent the day in my office, watching the day veer from sunny, to cloudy, to rainy, to sunny. Rain probably lasted 30 seconds, all told. I watched it come and go on the radar, an angry red eye floating over Manhattan.
I am reading Pynchon's Against the Day. Like most of his "literary" work, it jumps from place to place, with a common voice and tone, but its relationship to reality always attenuated and impressionistic.
Else, not much going on. Today was a beautiful day in New York. Nick hung out in Central Park with the "gang," while I spent the day in my office, watching the day veer from sunny, to cloudy, to rainy, to sunny. Rain probably lasted 30 seconds, all told. I watched it come and go on the radar, an angry red eye floating over Manhattan.
Without really expecting it, things at work have slowed down with the holiday. It's been nice to breathe again. Won't last, I know, but still.
Rain's looming; I didn't ride today. Not because of the rain, though. My legs are sore, drank too much last night. It was nice hanging with the "gang," I guess you could start to call them now. Some bar down in the Village, then a nearby diner. Not a bit hungover, which surprises me. I certainly drank enough gin and whiskey to get there. I tried to start something with Nick, but he passed out after I'd managed to get his pants off. Happens more often than you'd think.
Rain's looming; I didn't ride today. Not because of the rain, though. My legs are sore, drank too much last night. It was nice hanging with the "gang," I guess you could start to call them now. Some bar down in the Village, then a nearby diner. Not a bit hungover, which surprises me. I certainly drank enough gin and whiskey to get there. I tried to start something with Nick, but he passed out after I'd managed to get his pants off. Happens more often than you'd think.
