Just in case you were wondering if the life of a writer and comedian is so lucrative as to secure one a home in a safe, crime-free neighborhood, I can assure you that it's not. Nothing like having your car broken into in your own driveway to remind you that you do, in fact, live hood-adjacent. So today I'm hanging out at home waiting for the glass repair guy to come sometime between 8am and midnight and cruising the home listings in Westport, CT where the only crime is white collar crime. Aside from complete and utter boredom and the over abundance of Stepford wives, can we come up with a reason why I should not seriously consider a move to Westport?
The desk is my fault. While I was busy patting myself on the back for finding a great deal on Craigslist, I failed to measure the width of the doorway into our office, and low and behold, the desk is too wide. So now not only is it an obstacle course to get to the computer, I'm going to have to pay my handyman to come and take the legs off the stupid thing to get it through the door. My discount desk is going to end up costing more than a new one by the time it's all said and done. EPIC CRAIGSLIST FAIL.
To add insult to injury it looks like the glass man won't get here in time for the Muffin Man and I to get to our VIP Mommy and Me class, so I'm sure I'll be ejected for missing a session due to the fact that I do not have staff to handle these sorts of everyday nuisances on my behalf.
At least I'll have plenty of time to call my astrologer and find out what other fun adventures are in store for me this week.
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