The Office

I write today's post from the heart of Silicon Valley, if such a thing really exists. It's mostly brains here, not many other body parts are represented, other than maybe eyeballs and lightening-fast thumbs.

Once a month, the Client has me hang out in their offices for some mandatory face-time. While they are one of the world's major technology companies, they haven't lost sight of the fact that tangible reality and physical proximity – until further notice – still go a long way in the business world. Though thousands of emails may be exchanged over the years, never underestimate the power of putting a face to a name.

After working from home for the past seven months, it feels odd to be confined to a cubicle under fluorescent lights once again; it is the Hell I've already escaped. Trying to find the elevator bank or the restrooms is mind-boggling when everything looks the same – one block of grey squares after another, bordered by endless hallway grids. Walkways and avenues are helpfully labeled "G5" or "B2" like a vast parking lot, a helpful tool to orientate the occasional lost worker bee.

I always have the same thought when I come to this part of the world, "This place is overwhelmingly sexless." This is not to say that people here do not engage in fornication but it sure doesn't feel like a priority. All the men wear blue button-down shirts and Dockers and have got Tomorrow's Meeting on their minds. A line of Victoria Secret models could saunter past and they might never look up from their Blackberry or disengage from their cell phone.

Silicon Valley is the Land of Distraction. Unless something can be viewed on a screen, it does not warrant attention. Basically, it is the exact opposite of New York City, which makes me feel like the sexiest woman who ever walked on cement. Not so here. Frankly, there are few things in this world that can crush my libido faster than an office park.

Blech.