I have now joined the ranks of these girls. I've got a job in the big city. It may not be my dream job, and it may only be temporary, but in my continuing search for someone who will pay me to write, the adventure is worth it. The other day, I even wore a beret to work just so that I could stand in the middle of 2nd Avenue and throw my hat in the air. But, a seagull swooped in and grabbed it before it could fall back down. I really liked that hat... I'm thinking next I might try wearing running shoes until I get up to the office and then changing into high heels, except that I'm not sure it would have quite the desired effect, since the office I work in is so casual that running shoes would go without notice (hey, it's the Pacific Northwest).
To document my experience, I decided to create a photo journal, a step-by-step guide to my new glamorous (ha!) life. We begin, as always, at the beginning...
My bus fare, two shiny dollar coins, featuring the visage of former U.S. President Franklin Pierce.
My current bus book, rather appropriately, "The Best of Everything" by Rona Jaffe. First printed in 1958, this novel follows the lives of four young women who move to New York City in search of work, love and adventure...
The view from 3rd Avenue
Look at the big buildings!
Seattle's Best Coffee on 2nd and Cherry
Half a block from where the bus drops me off and across the street from my office building. I buy coffee here every morning, then sit and read for a few minutes until it's time to go to work.
A grande white chocolate Americano
I order it with room and then add nonfat milk. So much cheaper than a mocha, but it tastes almost the same!
Worm's-eye view of the Dexter Horton Building from 3rd and Cherry
Built in 1922 and named after one of Seattle's first tycoons, this historic building is home to the office where I work!
The front entrance of the Dexter Horton Building, 710 2nd Avenue
(Seriously, the office is on the 11th floor.)
All these things are great, but I think the best part about working in the city is the people I've met. Like my bus driver, Patti. Or the ladies who work at SBC who, for some reason, think my name is Monica. (I don't know why I haven't bothered to correct them. Does it really matter?) Or the homeless man who likes to hit garbage cans and newspaper dispensers with a giant stick. The city is a magical place, dear reader, a magical, magical place...