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Yesterday was another twelve hour day for yours truly. Thank GOD my partner is going to be back on Monday. He better be anyway.

It was still a good day though, the big boss in the office bought me my lunch for getting through "a rough week" and another guy in the office brought in bagels, also in honor of me surviving the week. AND the best par? My manager is giving me an "under the table" day off to take sometime before the end of the year! Wahoo! It feels good to be appreciated, especially considering I know the week wasn't easy for them either with only one sales assistant in our office.

I walked home through the city around 5pm and it was a completely different world since I had last seen it twelve hours earlier at 5am. It was a beautiful day and the city was bustling. People were spilling out of bars in the financial district, Chinatown was full of tourists. Washington Square Park packed with people lounging in the grass or playing with their dogs or eating Gelato and strolling about. Also, crazy homeless people yelling, but whatever. I even stopped by this great bakery in Chinatown and got dozens of bao zi to bring home to the family in Fremont. As I was heading down the hill towards Pier 39, almost home, I had an amazing view of the bay, boats in the horizon, the sky perfectly blue and it struck me how lucky I am to live where I do. I mean, really, in the last seven years of my life, other than a brief stint in Turlock (which by the way I actually really enjoyed) I've been living in places where people go on vacation. Not even in the suburbs of these places, but like smack dab in the middle of West Los Angeles, Paris and San Francisco.

Labels: Life, San Francisco, the grind