Ellen's Job

Ellen's job is killing me. Here I sit. Day after day. It's one thing to have a desk job. It's another to just have the desk.
I don't have anything to do. No filing, organizing, labeling, or even mail to open. I'm just here in case the phone rings. And in case you were wondering it has rung twice this week. Once while I was reading about Kim Kardashian's baby and then another time as soon as I got comfortable in the bathroom. I have learned that I am no match for life- if this is life- and I now proclaim for myself a life of wandering, odd jobs, and being poor. I'm excited about this. I've got time. Theoretically.

First on the docket is my European trip somewhere cold. Scandinavia you say? That's a thought. Nothing like salmon from a squeeze tube for breakfast.

I noted in my trip journal that I felt like a "swarthy troll" walking around in Stockholm. Everyone there is very tall and very blonde and very attractive. Like walking light beacons. I was a short, voluptuous, dark person in ill-fitting clothes. It greatly contradicted my life's ambition of blending in and going unnoticed. Also, my thunderous cackle. Folks are quiet up there. I actually read that it is rude to cause a scene of any kind. This includes blasts of laughter and even scolding your child. Kids don't cry in Sweden.

Also on the mind is bonnie Scotland. The land of my one true love... Craig Ferguson. You know there's good kayaking in Scotland. Though I think the water is too cold for my southern disposition. Speaking of which, I've been doing my Asian girl arm exercises. I bet I could tackle those rough Welsh waves this time around. All of the trip failure and planning and rearranging and canceling and grieving is really distracting me lately. It has been seven days since I gave Mattie "the call" and I have not for one second been able to stop thinking about it. Well, except when I read that Kim named her baby North West. Really?

I have thirty minutes left on my sentence today and then I'm headed downtown as Jared has locked himself out of his apartment and I have his spare key- for this very reason. He leaves Sunday for the big city. I'm really excited for him. This will be the first time in his life that he will need a real winter coat.
Silly Caribbean folk. (like I've ever needed a winter coat).

I'm rambling because I emailed pictures of Ellen's desk and workspace to myself to post here and I'm waiting for them to come through. They aren't coming. I suppose I'll stop this now, though I hate to leave you with only a picture of Salmon Paste.