I have nothing to say.

I mean, really, I don't have anything to say.
I'm sitting here, craving a cigarette, but spending my time with you lot, and there is really nothing to report.

Except maybe this:

On Sunday I'm flying to New York, to New York City - to stay in the Ritz Carlton (Battery Park) and then attend some meetings and then on Tuesday, my company is going to ring the opening bell at the NYSE. I don't know that I'll be at all visible, I was thinking so, but lately have gotten some emails that make me think I'll be off to the side and not on camera (and I was totally going to do the Carol Burnett thing as a signal to my mom that I love her and wish she was there with me) and that really bums me out, because I bought a really nice suit for it.

After NYSE (which still, how cool, because we'll be given a tour of the trading floor, and really, who gets to do that? One of the requirements is that women in sleeveless dresses and open toed shoes are not allowed, presumably because you'll get punched and tromped on what with all the frenzied people throwing paper and bidding?

Who knows. Anyway, I need to get shoes.

From NY I am flying then to Boston. I'll be in Boston for one day on a top secret sleuthing mission and then I fly to Edinburgh. I'll then be in Edinburgh for 6 days. Three of them to spend searching for a home and learning the area, and three of them spent with coworkers for the design of our new buildings.

Two full days of meetings with little ones being added on.
We look to start at 7:00am each day and end approximately 10 or 11pm.
But I will be with one of my mentors, a man who has encouraged me at every step I've taken, the man who would not fire me when I first started working there, no matter that I was late to work every single day.

And I was the receptionist. It was fairly important that I be there.
At one point, because I got in at 8:15 for my 8:00am shift every day for a year, this kind mentor-man changed my hours to an 8:30am start, whereupon I promptly started coming in at 8:45am.

I am just hardwired to wake up late. Always, always, always late.

I get home on the 26th. I'll be posting as I can, because I've been given a laptop.
I said I needed to keep up on my work emails, but really I just needed to be able to check my gossip sites and talk to you folks.

I'll be in touch,

Salome

p.s. Those mosquito hawks are out in force. And when I say out in force, I mean dotting the walls of my house with a vengeance. They are stupid, and tend to buzz all around me, knocking against me until I slap them away with a frenzy. And sometimes they die, and leave little pellets of themselves behind. And I don't know if that's poop, babies or brains. And this fact simultaneously skeeges and fascinates me.

That is all.