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{Reservations} {Tickets} {Map} {Photos} {Souvaniers} {Postcards} {Design} 2002-11-09 | 12:36 a.m. Remember back when I said I was starting a new job and I worried that I might love it? No, I don't love it. Well, I sort of do... I mean, I work all day with the sexiest man I've ever met in my miserable life. He's taken so of course this is just a neat perk, and never anything more. Still, it's fun. And 99% of my co-workers are 'the good kind' of folks. Pay's ok. There's potential for overtime whenever I want it. Area the facillity sits in is pretty and safe. Aside from the `Brook, this is the best place I've found so far............... Which brings me to the problem: a house. One of the therapists is offering to rent-with-option his 3 bedroom, 2 full bathroom house in a nice area of Rhode Island (20 min from work) for a good price. Another co-worker happens to be a neighbor of his. Lives 2 minutes down his road and she reports that the place is well kept and in a good neighborhood, big yard, newish deck... Oy Vey. Diary, the job was glue, but a house is an anchor. Big, barnicle-covered, black, anchor chained to my neck. Don't get me wrong, I know this is a good opportunity. BUT.................. What about my dream of living in the South for a while, maybe even permanently? About listening to the smooth, deep voice in my ear saying "Goodnight sweetheart, you know I love you"? I'm just so dang whooped.
Miss These? absence of life - 2003-07-28 |