Not time yet

As I adjust to the crazy world of cupcakes and this lifestyle of very early wake-up calls and Madison Ave...my writing has been sparse. What I am writing is not upbeat but rather pensive and ponderous.

The time I find for writing is in the very early morning while waiting for the subway train. I eavesdrop on the Metro Transit Authority (MTA) workers and am intrigued by their lives down in the hole. That's what they call it, "Another day in the hole." Overnight construction crews finish up at 5 AM. I take the 5:01 train, so my ride is scattered with workers, tired from a long night of walking the rails repairing damaged lines, staying on their guard to not touch the live 3rd rail which will send 13,000 volts of electricity though the body for instant death.

It is another world at this hour of the morning and I feel privileged to witness it. The dichotomy of the ride to work from my poor, mostly African-American neighborhood to the heart of Madison avenue is startling. When I arrive at work the phone rings off the hook from frantic executive assistants panicked to get their emergency same-day delivery of cupcakes to Versce, Jimmy Choo, JP Morgan, Deutsche Bank, Cartier, Tiffany's and every NBC executive at 30 Rockefeller Plaza. The executive assistants think nothing about the same-day-delivery charge of $18 before the cost of the cupcakes. What matters is getting them their cupcakes before the time of the presentation or big meeting.

The sense of urgency is unreal and it is all just like the cupcakes...unhealthy.

I've asked to be transferred to another location and that will start in a week.

They're putting me at the Wall Street store. I'm sure there's no tension downtown in the financial district.

So much love,
All the way from over here...
Linda