I woke up in a relatively good mood today, only to be confronted by four, no, five pimples that weren’t there the night before.  Maybe it’s one of life’s ways of saying, “yes, rina, it’s a monday morning once again.”



Something to be said about the way people come back from meetings… some burst in through the door with some extravagant declaration (“we got the account!”); some just stride in quietly and confidently, secure in the knowledge of doing a good day’s work (“good meeting.”); some walk in and plunge straight into a flurry of activities (phone calls, guest lists, collaterals)… the diversity is remarkable. It reminds you once again that it’s a colorful world, there are stories everywhere, it’s not just people hunched over keyboards waiting for 6 o’clock. If you look closely enough, it’s there. There are stories everywhere.  They could be plotting a serial murder, or a sweet romantic gesture for a loved one.  They could be crying inside, for all you know. Or laughing at you.


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