starfish

i now live in an office.

perks?

i get to take the dog on a walk whenever i please. i'm re-united with the all-mighty microwave. one of my new roommates can apparently fashion a halter bra out of a regular bra, which should come in handy one of these days. someone in the house subscribes to people magazine, so there's my celebrity gossip. and the owner just installed HD cable boxes on every television in the house, so the remote might as well be harry potter's magic wand.

downsides?

i have to walk five steps to catch a reflection of myself. whoever it is that made coffee and left half a pot sitting there to die apparently doesn't honor the same brewing code that i am used to. i can't walk around in any of my promiscuous sleepwear. and, my personal favorite: i have to resemble a starfish in order to keep my body elevated off the floor at night. goodbye mattress, hello blown-up mess. on the first morning following my first nights sleep in the house i woke up with my ass on the floor. i felt like i was the lettuce, cheese, and pollo in a soft taco. what ended up saving me was the little switch i found beside the mattress that slowly pumps air back into it. even though i haven't been sleeping well this past week, at least this switch prevents me from turning into a starfish at night.

to summarize: i miss you, mattress on manhattan avenue. why did i leave you for an office a mile away? well, i had no choice in the matter. the owner of the home i have been renting has brought his entire family here for the holidays so i had to vacate temporarily. to my good fortune he arranged for me to stay at a friends place, hence the reason why i now live in the office of a three-bedroom home. sounds like a giant step back but hear this: rent-free. yah baby, best perk of them all.