working hard for the money

Oh, manual labor. You forget how much it sucks til you do it again. I had my first catering job in six months recently and boy oh boy are my girly arms complaining about the hours of holding trays stacked with drinks (pomegranate infused martinis for the curious), hauling tables/boxes/chairs and cleaning up other people's trash. It made me grateful for intellectually stimulating and physically undemanding job with benefits and steady hours. However, it's a very nice perk to have an interesting second job that doesn't require my brain to work. It also makes me thing the economy is *hopefully* improving if I am once again catering parties.

That said...the party was cool! It was for an arts organization based downtown so the party was at the World Trade center on the 40 something floor so I got an amazing view of foggy Manhattan. It was all modern and odd, with a giant screen showing an indie art film on a loop, mobile-like art projects 

hanging from the ceiling and Indian music. The bar was half electric blue plastic and three dimensional mirror/shiny tiles with pink and blue light cords over top. There were stools that looked like tree trunks painted white and ottomans and pillows scattered around. 

And I saw the Hoff! No, not the Baywatch one but Phillip Seymore Hoffman! Actually he was at my table and declined both the dinner rolls and wine that I offered.