When the big boys come home they stay in the guest house which is why I just don't go back there. When Gioconda lived at 144 East Pine she once told me she only went upstairs one time a day.
"I just can't handle more than that," she said. At the time it seems insane to completely avoid an entire floor of your house, but now I so get it.
Tonight I had to go the guest house as all the lights were left on. Apparently, there was a plan to hang meat as the temperature was a frosty 68.
Dishes, food, blankets, games scattered on the floor.
"After they use something do they just throw it directly in the air?" I asked Gioconda.
She shrugged. She thinks I am too critical.
"You have no idea how most people live," she says. Gioconda is the arbritor of nothing.
To Gioconda everyone earns $200k a year, she enjoys crowds, and could live in a refrigerator box. Things rarely bug her.
Clearly, she doesn't have a very firm grasp on reality.
I admit I am neurotic about a clean house, yet there has to be something between my need for order and the collection of fast food bags and Girls Gone Wild videos on the floor.
The bigger question for me is who can eat a Big Mac combo meal while watching porno. I get pizza, but a burger, that just seems unnatural.
Christian left on Wednesday and Julien will leave Monday. Christian is actually not a messy as Julien so we lost 2.5 people with his departure, which puts the count at 8.5 here with us.
"Summer is almost over and it will be Christmas before you know it," she said yesterday, as if this was a good thing.
Great. December. Property tax and 7 additional people.
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