Is that really a word?

Um, no, it appears that it isn't. It should be one.

Anyway, I'm caught between innocently dialing my landlord and asking him to stop by and check out the situation, and behaving like a normal city-dwelling American and minding my own damn business. See, Oola is away on business, and it appears that Paco is homesteading in her apartment, only three days after he left with the U-Haul and she called the cops to chase his ass out of town.

I've decided my life is very uninteresting, because I am endlessly fascinated with these people. And they make me very nervous at the same time.

Also, funny how little things become very exciting to me. Like the fact that the conference center where I'm holding the high school reunion is setting up tables with centerpieces, serving a buffet, and providing security for very little money. I've been jumping around all day after learning that. It seems too easy. Why is that? Is it because everybody else in the world goes out of their way to be difficult? Or is a geography thing (it being the Midwest, a small town, and all that)? I didn't even have to provide a credit card to hold this giant ballroom or order all that food.

I'm so excited about my new desk. It's this enormous, polished, beautiful wood desk, very ergonomic (it looks like a flat, giant bean), with a little shelf. It's easily the best desk I've ever had, and I just bought a leather desk chair last night. And DSL is finally working. I am truly tempted to go freelance now. But I'll settle for doing some part-time work in addition to my cushy salary. I think the addition of the desk is worth all the guilt I'm feeling about selling my sofabed and making my mother stay in a hotel when she visits.

But that's another story.

Going to go now. TT is gone for the day and I really want Chinese food.