flâneur

Crying in the subway | Infinite Ascent

blog.cjquines.com · 2,793 words · saved by 8 readers

Since my last post, I went to a square dance weekend up in Vermont, came back to Boston, crashed for a night, then took the Amtrak back to New York on Monday morning. I went straight to work, and took the train from Penn Station to my office, which is in the Financial District. It was the Monday before Thanksgiving. Our open office has four conference rooms and enough desks for thirty people. Three people showed up to the office that day, me included. Less than a typical Monday, where maybe five people would show up. It was, in many respects, a typical day of work, until around 4 PM, when I was wrest with sadness. I started thinking about how I missed being in Boston, missed working from a space with more than three people, how I missed people, so many people. I closed my laptop, packed my things, took the elevator down. The tears were coming. In Boston, I rarely went home alone. But that day I ate lunch alone, and sat on my desk alone, and the Slack channels were quieter than usual. Y

One Since my last post, I went to a square dance weekend up in Vermont, came back to Boston, crashed for a night, then took the Amtrak back to New York on Monday morning. I went straight to work, and took the train from Penn Station to my office, which is in the Financial District. It was the Monday before Thanksgiving. Our open office has four conference rooms and enough desks for thirty people. Three people showed up to the office that day, me included. Less than a typical Monday, where maybe five people would show up. It was, in many respects, a typical day of work, until around 4 PM, when

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