Alas! Salvation! My thoughtful, wonderful father surprised me a few weeks ago by offering to book me a cute b&b here in the city. I swear to god… I want to live in this exact house if I ever get rich!
My room has a turret! I’ve always wanted a turret. And I’m currently at a wine and cheese cocktail hour, finishing my third glass of wine (oops!) and countless plate of cheese.
I also took a glorious bath in the biggest tub I’ve ever experienced… Now I’m finally a bit less hobo-smelly!
Meanwhile, my brother and cousin are both texting me various locations they would like for us to visit. Munich, Paris, Switzerland, Dubrovnik (that’s my bother’s choice… Apparently Peter Dinklage is a fan… What a GOT dork). No idea how I’ll afford it, but I’d love to go everywhere!
God, wouldn’t it just be great to be rich? I mean, great and horrible (because I’ll always be cheap at heart). I walk around this city (although I’ve always done this in Nola too) and start picking my future home… A lovely Victorian on Alamo Park circa Full House 1996. If only money weren’t an object…
Which brings me to my writing! In that my writing has been sincerely on-hold for the last week. After all the touring and exploring, I’m so exhausted I can do little more than grumble about the overpriced housing market (I will never be able to afford an apartment in this city!). I did write over 20 postcards in the past two days… Does that count?
Until then… I’ll just continue to pretend I’m not unemployed in this beautiful mansion…