I'm a twentysomething writer and editor living out my dream
one day • one picture • one avenue • one story at a time.
This is where I overshare and constantly write tiny love letters to New York.
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Michael snuck up behind me today for the 5748395th time while I was working diligently and scared the crap out of me. So, in childish rage, I slapped a post-it note outside my cube that read: No stupid sales assistants allowed! (To which he crossed out assistants and wrote coordinators.) And then he retaliated by posting what you see above. Ugh, way harsh.
