What I did on my summer vacation: by Some Girl
Bruce, the thoughtful bugger, called me yesterday while I was picking up dinner. We had a quick rendezvous at the gas station (so romantic, cost more than a gourmet dinner too, fuckers) and I went to pick up food and he went home. In the ten minutes that I was at the restaurant Bruce called to tell me that I had a message on the answering machine and that the fish were still alive. The fish are living in a condition that no mere mortal fish would survive. Bruce and I returned from Boston from our yearly summer vacation. The fourth of July in Boston is a good time. I managed to see almost everyone that I like to see once a year. Technically I would like to see everyone more often but those bitched won’t come here. Hurry up bitches, come here!
Because here is suddenly more awesome.
Two days before we left for Boston, I moved out of my apartment with Bruce and into my own place in San Francisco. I may have picked the worst time in the world to make a move what with vacation coming, plus I had a certification exam at work that required 8 hours a day of studying for the two weeks leading up to the exam. I may have experienced a minor mental breakdown on my first day of vacation. I then read four books in five days, got a wicked tan, ate some lobster, and did some drinking.
As always, getting back to real life was the sadness; both Bruce and I were shooting looks of longing at the receding Boston shoreline and then bounced right back into life. I now have the pleasure of spending the next two weeks moving the remaining objects up to the city. I am going to address the important things first. For instance, right now the only edible objects in my apartment are containers of powdered iced-tea. Not surprisingly the only thing in my refrigerator is a pitcher of iced-tea. My furniture is getting delivered, very slowly, by freight companies across the bay area. I figure at this rate, I will have a hard surface for writing by 2009.
Work has decided to calm down, very nicely of it, if I do say so myself, and with any luck Bruce will minimize the phone calls about phone calls. Which is probably best because I still haven’t figured out how to work the phone in my apartment.