Oh Shit

So, I was just taking the garbage down to the bins in the yard and I bumped into the people who live in the ground floor apartment. Ouch! Ha, JK guys! Daniel and I have never met them before, but we always see them through the window watching their super fancy-pants flat screen tv and working on their super hi-tech computer. Their flat has just been burgaled. Shee-yat! It happened today some time bewteen 11 and 6. Lovely. Just as I was feeling happy about our neighborhood (it is a beautiful day here and everything looks good). Bastards. I feel really bad for the people downstairs, even if I may have made 'oooh look at ME watching fucking The Wright Stuff on my fancy-schmancy tv!' comments at times. Guilty, guilty as charged.

The BEST part of this is that Daniel has chosen this night to be down in London and I am aww awone! Wah! So, because I am a scaredy cat, I have double-locked the doors.

I mean, we don't have that much stuff to take, and we live on the 2nd floor (that means 3rd in America)but I am not pleased with this turn of events.

However, it did distract me from the fact that my first day of work was dullsville, and that I am exhausted. My body has no memory of real work. Seriously, it's like when you get really fit for a while and work out or run or something everyday (note, I have never done this)and then you lapse (I HAVE done this) and drink beer and eat cheesecake like it's your job and then a month later you go running and it is as if you are Harrison Ford in 'Regarding Henry,' learning how to walk again and painting wildly colorful pictures of Ritz crackers. (Sidebar: OMG, how much could I go for a fucking Ritz cracker right now!? Alas, they are nowehere to be found here!)

The point is, I cannot believe I have a job again. How can I score one of those gigs as an anonymous shopper (you get to buy stuff for free, right?) or hotel/resort inspector? Are those jobs real? You woudl often see ads for 'mystery shoppers' in the back of the Village Voice, but I always tended to find the stuff in the back of the VV rather dubious.

Um, where was I? Yes: work and how it is for the birdz. I may become one of those people who sells posters at street fairs. You heard it here first.