sweet mother of god it's winter. all of a sudden it's winter. i've got my heater cranked at my feet, i wore a scarf and gloves with my down vest this morning, and my fingers have that stiff 'don't remember how to work' feeling. mind you, our office air conditioning still thinks it is +22 outside, and is merrily pumping cold air down onto my head, but whatevs.
i managed to offend one of my colleagues thursday, by not telling her what i was doing, when i was finishing a fun project for my boss. the air emanating from her section of the office is, believe it or not, colder than that coming from the vents. shocking, i know, but there it is. le sigh. each day that passes leaves me less patience for moody coworkers. fucking deal with it or go back to highschool.
this weekend the architect, the sister, and i went to look at a main floor suite. it was advertised as a 'newly renovated' (meaning since the house was built back in the late 60s) 3-bedroom. the first bedroom was about the same size as my closet. the second was slightly bigger, and the 'big' bedroom about half the size of mine.
the piece de resistance, though, was the "bathtub". if i'd pulled my knees up to my chest, i could have fit into the 'tub', and even had water covering me up to (approximately) my hips. the uniqueness of this 'tub' was nearly enough to make me sign a lease then and there, but the sheer wonder of it was mitigated by the lack of closet space.
the hunt continues....
leonard nimoy’s advice to a bi-racial teenage girl in 1968
Il y a 7 heures