Working alone on Saturdays is boring.
Yesterday I got out of bed only to use the bathroom and to cook up some pasta. I finished Summerland by Michael Chabon and got most of the way through A Passage to India by E.M. Forster. Fatty spent the whole day on the bed with me. At one point she actually curled herself around my head like a hat made of fat cat. She fell asleep with her nose in my ear so I had to listen to her snuffle and rattle until she moved.
I really wish that I could access an FTP server at work so that I could upload new book lists and content to my stagnant and embarassing personal website.
I miss my balcony in San Telmo. On the far right? That was us.
I've applied to 3 jobs in Buenos Aires since Monday. I don't expect that to go anywhere, but hope springs eternal.
I really wish that I could access an FTP server at work so that I could upload new book lists and content to my stagnant and embarassing personal website.
I miss my balcony in San Telmo. On the far right? That was us.
I've applied to 3 jobs in Buenos Aires since Monday. I don't expect that to go anywhere, but hope springs eternal.