I have become like a wolf on Wall Street. I seek stories with unquenchable thirst, rather than deals.

Showing up to a company party in The Trump Building on Wall Street, it unexpectedly ends up being an intimate gathering between coworkers.

Clearly I don't belong here, but luckily as a journalist I always belong, I always have opportunity with the power of a pen.

Cutting through the fog of internal discomfort is enabled by a goal, to explore the folks of NYC in their habitats. Conveniently, here I am in the ferocious territory of the wolves, I can't let this one pass me by.

I'm feeling uncomfortable at first being one of the only girls, not to mention the only person who does not work on at this company. Yet my curiosity takes over and I inquire about their workday. Through being a journalist I can become a part of this company, my workplace is everywhere my coworkers are everyone who I encounter. With this, a lively guest has been awoken.

Needless to say my next story will be related a future visit to 40 Wall Street during "power hour."

My concluding thoughts are as follows: is there ever a bad experience, is there ever a bad day, is there ever a mistake, if it can be written about with purpose, or if a story can be extracted? My choice career path requires a remarkable activity that opens doors, allows me access to another's innermost thoughts, while pushing me past my shy disposition as Hannah.

**A shot of Jameson was also helpful

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