ACCOZZAGLIA

the humidity broke this morning, making life at home worth living here, instead of over at svairini‘s air-conditioned pad. and for some reason, I’m not having a professionally anxious day.

Perhaps it helped that I showed some discipline by going directly to work right after getting out of bed (the *only* perk to working at home, really) and talking in-depth to a client who’s ordinarily as email-savvy as me. The problem with quick, bounce back-and-forth email replies is that so much context is being dropped for the sake of speed and brevity. I finally laid down the gauntlet and phoned her, covering a lot of ground in, oh, 45 minutes. so.

I dinna. I’m dirt poor with shady prospects for the next while, but I’m not feeling as dragged down by it as I was this time yesterday. It’s unclear why. Maybe cos it’s overcast, and summer overcast is MY FRIEND.

Plus, I talked on the phone last night with a wet-behind-the-ears, not-yet-worldly “trust fund baby” (her self-applied quote, not mine) eighteen year-old from the Bay Area who drives a 5-series BMW and was sitting in her garaged car, with her wi-fi laptop and mobile phone, jumping to Web site references hither and tither. And her massive savings and golden trust fund. And how her salary right now is practically double of any annual salary I’ve ever made (which flummoxed her slightly, especially when she admitted that I’m no stupid-head).

I might have found her spoiled life offensive if it weren’t for the fact that she’s really naïve to how the world — on an anthropological level — operates, and how she’s in for a bevy of … learning experiences. I was stuck somewhere between laughing hysterically and pitying her. Really. I was.

She’s gonna need all the help she can get. And it’s nothing you can buy, either.