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  • It's more than halfway built today. I can see it from my apartment in Brooklyn and looking south down most west-side avenues. A constant reminder.

    My colleagues at Conde Nast don't mention it much. It has to get built before a city of cynics gets on board. The decade of political hubbub getting it this high doesn't bode well. But it won't be another 10 years. It'll be 15 months.

    Sure, we're nervous. It's going to be 104 floors high. After downtown ad agencies with eighth floor rooftops, I don't even like the 19th floor conference-room vista in our current midtown offices. That might explain why I bee-lined for the lobby during the August 2011 earthquake surprise, as the others guessed in groups upstairs. Or why I work in a storage closet on the interior perimeter adjacent the elevator shafts. I've jazzed it up with paper airplanes hanging from the ceiling and a faux-window mirror with shutters. That said, writers who work in closets aren't ideal candidates for One WTC.

    There are perks to it though: I can walk over the Brooklyn Bridge to work. (It'll take an hour, and I'll do it just about as often as I see a Broadway show on my lunch break in midtown. But the point is: I could.)

    Some murmur they'll only work remotely come the move. With all the co-working spaces, it doesn't sound half bad. But I'm already afraid of most things - animals, flights, heights, the dark - and I'd like to cap the list instead of adding to it.

    There's just something that's so New York about being fearless.
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