When did I become a client?!

So when did I grow up? No really. Today I was almost wearing a suit and I went to Bloomberg to meet with about 6 sales people...alone. While I was sitting in the lobby, which looked like the place in which George Jetson worked (Spacely Space Sprockets?), I actually started laughing at myself. When did I stop being the 12 year old kid crying because I had a piano recital or the 17 year old blasting Hanson and JLo out of the 78 Buick? I mean I'm not taking it seriously and because of that I can have fun with it. I prefer to think of it as performing, rather than working. Except when I'm actually in a cube. Then it's pure, rat in a cage, labor.

There was this giant metal cloud at Bloom that means the future is unpredictable and out of our control. Who knew that the stock market believes in destiny? Also who knew that Michael Bloomberg got fired from his early job at Salomon Brothers for gross incompetence (huh?!) and was given a $10 million severance package before he started his own damn company and then went on to become the mayor. Since he already makes so much money, he apparently only accepts $1.00 a year for his state service. Yes, a dollar. So I got the tour of the Bloomberg building because I am in fact.. the client, and then I met with people from TV, radio, online, and print. A few random people popped in to meet me too, including an old guy called "The Senator." I'm not sure, but I think they were surprised to see that I'm really just a kid. This is what happens when you're on job and title three in a less than 2 years. Scary.

Then I went home and now I'm watching "First Class All the Way" on Bravo because who knows? Maybe I'll have a huge ego one day and I'll terrorize travel agents to the point that they have to travel along with me and my empty shell Wall Street baller betrothed to make sure we're satisfied. Until then I'm gonna keep smoke and mirroring my way to the weekend...maybe pick up a few tricks, swindle a few checks! Not really.