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The Atomic Squid accompanied me and we discovered that I had to pay my New York City transit dues, i.e. that it took me inexplicably longer to go everywhere than it should have. This has lasted a week, alas, though it may be fixed now *hopefully*. Anyhow, walk, subway, walk, light rail, walk, train, walk, office.
Work.
And reverse it all...
It makes a long day, but is still slightly surreal. I've been here before, on business trips, enough times that it all feels strangely normal. Is this a dream? Am I really here? Where do I belong?
We go to lunch with the old gang. I have a cubicle. The cubicle has my name on it. I have my own set of whiteboard markers! Phew, the crayon equivalent at last. I wish there were chartreuse whiteboard markers.
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