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A good day.

Alarm goes off at 6:30.  No thanks, alarm, maybe later.  Up around 7, turning on lights (ugh), making bed (so I don't get back in) and blasting iTunes (digging the new Ray LaMontagne).  Stare at closet, decide on black dress and beige suit jacket.  Top it off with a glamorous HandPicked necklace and tall black boots.  One dark cup of coffee and bowl of oatmeal later, I'm out the door.

It's 60ish degrees outside, ominously cloudy, and way too humid for October.  I hike up my skirt ever so casually, jump on my bike, and ride across town to USAID's offices on G Street.  Just a 15 minute bike ride during rush hour, with my brown leather briefcase perched over my back-wheel-basket.  Did I mention I am wearing running shorts under my dress?  Yep, bright green ones.  And a helmet (of course!).

Hikedupdress+tallblackboots+brightgreenshorts+bignecklace+helmet=Rush Hour Entertainment.

The meeting at USAID is an interagency workshop on microfinance.  I, along with my Latin America travel buddy, am representing the State Department.  Other agencies present are OPIC (the Overseas Private Investment Agency), Dept. of Labor, USDA, the Millennium Challenge Corporation, and the Treasury Dept.  All of whom are enthusiastic about extending financial access to the world's poor.  Few of whom know what the other is doing.  Fortunately, the lack of coordination does not preclude future collaboration.  Progress!

At 11am, it's back to the office via bike (cue awesome outfit again), past the White House and through the woods.  From then on, I'm not sure what bounces around more: my head between issues (economics, philanthropy, democracy, what?) or my body between offices (the hallways of the State Department run the length of 2 city blocks).  Suddenly it's 4pm, and I've yet to draft my boss' remarks for an event she's participating in tonight at the Organization of American States, honoring former President of Chile Michelle Bachelet.  She knows I used to live in Chile and invites me to join.  Ignoring my oncoming cold and tiredness, I am thrilled.

The event is delightful.  I sit at my boss' table, feeling enamored of Latin America and my job that allows me to interact with the experts who surround me.  The man next to me, a professor at Georgetown, happens to knows my beloved college advisor at Tufts, and we discover that I once wrote a paper on one of his studies.  We discuss how the State Department might be able to support the training of young Latin Americans in electoral processes.  (Democracy is wonderful, but it won't get very far without people who know how to implement the minor logistical challenge called elections).

Home by 10:30 after a sticky bike ride home.  Can't help but think about all of the things I didn't get to today while bouncing between meetings.  I'm reviewing the day's events with Preppy (who is here on business from NYC), and a large white box catches my eye.  Gasp, it has my name on it!  Could it really be a package for me?  Inside, the most beautiful white magnolia greets me with an aura of love.  I am overcome with the joy of lifelong friendship.  The magnolia is magical (as is the woman who made it), and my day is complete.

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