A shower washes some of the cobwebs from her brain. She dresses, swallows vitamins and juice, grabs her briefcase, and stops off at the closet by the front door, staring at jackets and coats. The obvious choice, her black Zoe trench, won’t cut it today. That’s too much like a straight suit, the good corporate girl fitting into the fashionable corporate mode. Too much like something people from Tokyo would expect her to wear.