Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Back to reality. And strangely, happy about it.

I've spent the past three plus weeks house-sitting for a very nice couple (previously mentioned in this blog, who hopefully do not read this blog) and their three very fuzzy cats. It's great because I get to live out an absurd fantasy where I am very wealthy and have purchased my very own stylishly-furnished condominium in a nice part of town. (In case you were curious how I was able to afford this at twenty-five in my fantasy, don't worry, I have invented circumstances as well. Naturally, I was born into money, which I refused to accept because I wanted to make it on my own without my family's billions of dollars. So at seventeen I set out to make it on my own, which I did, after an appropriate amount of hardship and turmoil. One day after leaving an Au Bon Pain with a cup of coffee and a donut without paying, I am "discovered" by a local talent scout who thinks I'd be terrific playing reenactments in television shows and commercials. Some time passes, I make a healthy profit, and then I buy up a bunch of small businesses.)

Anyway it's been great spending time eating snack foods in front of a flat screen television while cats presumably try to read my mind, but I'm quite happy to be back in Cambridge. Was it hard giving up my luxurious waterfront property in order to "get back in touch with my roots"? Sure, it was. Thanks for asking. Why am I so glad to be back to an apartment with a shower which may not be a shower at all but actually a conveniently-positioned leaky faucet and windows that waft in the smell of steak when opened (pro or con?)? Allow me to provide a few reasons:

1. The homeless people. You've been missed! There don't seem to be any at all where I've been staying. I suppose maybe they are afraid of heights and don't like crossing the bridge over the harbor. If no one asks me for money, is that because they assume I don't have any? Without the crazy and/or homeless people in my neighborhood, who is going to pay me compliments and greet me in the morning?
2. The people to dog ratio seems a bit unbalanced in Charlestown. The statistics have not been newly generated in a few years but I think it's something like one person for every three golden retrievers. I guess this would be a positive for some people.
3. If I break something, I don't have to leave an apologetic note or fastidiously super glue it back together. I have tried leaving myself notes but quite often I've come back to find several more Post-it Notes asking what the hell I was talking about and if I'd seen the clock radio anywhere or knew who'd drank all the port.
4. I can finally put an end to the persistent terrifying nightmares where an oil tanker crashes into my house while I sleep.

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