magicbeans. nothing if not awkward.

My alarm went off at nine. I was definitely hung over from last night. My phone rang two minutes later, a call from a Brooklyn number that I didn't recognize. I didn't answer it, but called my voicemail and listened to the message as I dragged myself out of bed. 'Bean, this is Eddie. I need you to get a digital camera with a wide-angle lens and meet me at Rockefeller Plaza to take some more photos for a new set of Democracy Plaza sketches that we have to do. I'm leaving my house in Brooklyn right now and will be on the train for the next 45 minutes or so. I have a meeting under the Bank of America tent in front of the Nautica store that lasts until 1015. Meet me either right before or right after the meeting so that we can go over the photos that we need. Thanks.'

Shit.

I showered. Got dressed. Drank an espresso at The Archive. Rushed onto the subway. I got to the office at just about 10. I'm not sure exactly how. 'Did you get Eddie's message?' Beatrice asked. 'He's waiting for you at Rockefeller Center.'

'Yep. I'm just grabbing the camera and heading up there.' Arrived just as Eddie was leaving a second message on my voicemail, letting me know that he could only wait around another five minutes.

I took all the photos I thought we might need (ground level, from a person in the exhibit's point of view), and headed back to the office.

Two hours of running around in humid New York weather had not helped the hangover. But, at least I had a fair amount of company in my day after state.