Somewhere in LA, in the rain.

It’s Friday. That’s a good thing no matter where you work but for me, it’s especially wonderful. Today it is raining and our building doorman greeted us with doors held open and mats put firmly in place to ward off muddy boot prints. Breakfast is catered in and I can see the building across the street from me, the way it appears caked with moisture, the water running down its brown exterior like a delicious chocolate sauce.

On rainy days I tend to work harder. No spring fever for me, no dreams of sundresses and bare toes. I cozy up with the hazelnut coffee or green tea and actually focus.

Last night was my last Dine LA dinner, at Ford’s Filling Station in Culver City. My dates were my “work spouses,” my two closest friends at work. One of them, Bear, is tall and chubby and gay and happy. He delivers good news with a smile. I can’t imagine him angry, or—if he was angry—he’d shout at you with a big grin on his face. Liz is the other. Probably the most independent girlfriend I have. She is so happy with herself and her life and doesn’t feel the need to be attached-at-the-hip with her boyfriend. She is so incredibly level-headed and driven. She is pencil thin and “LA cool” – flip flops and designer jeans and long, loose sweaters.

Dinner was amazing. Ford’s is now on my fave list of LA restaurants. Yum.

And then the rain started to come down harder, after dinner. I slept through the night. I don’t recall tossing and turning or dreaming. It was a night that I sunk deep into my bed, limbs still, mind peaceful.

And now, here I am.

Happy Friday.