The Sexy Table Post

I’m here at Cromar’s house and feeling very alone. All my belongings are scattered about the house in a manor that (I think) will help me find things, as I need them. Its so weird being here by myself. Sarah and Stefan both agreed that it was eerie being in the vacation home last week without hearing the screams of cousins and the laughter of aunts and uncles. Being here alone is even worse. I’ve set up my computer on the dining room table, which I recently found out has a table cloth on it for a reason. That being that the table is made out of an old carved bedroom door, which features ornate carvings of different Karma Sutra positions. Cromar has this house as a vacation home, and doesn’t spend much time living here (he’s usually in Scotland or Dubai) so the rental company has covered up the explicit table with a large tablecloth, which I find hilarious.

I stopped by the post office and cancelled the hold on my mail, so my driver’s license should arrive here as early as tomorrow. I am both anticipating and dreading its arrival. Obviously it’ll be great to have something other than an I.O.U. from the Florida DMV to drive on, but on the other hand the picture on said license is possibly one of the worst I’ve ever had taken and the address on it will be “Pink Grape Fruit Blvd”. I dread the next time I am trying to get into a bar or by some beer and I have to identify myself as the ‘pizza-face kid who lives on Pink Grapefruit’.

Work starts tomorrow, and I’m sitting here all unpacked at 2:00 with nothing productive to do besides sleep and make sure I’m there on time in the morning. I have a few of these posts I want to get online, but without internet access I dunno when I’ll get the chance. I’ll just have to do one big post at the same time.