Duuuude! California!

So, the past few days have been spent moping about and feeling sorry for myself, and broke. Which is crap. I hate not having a job to go to. It's not just the money, it's being mentally engaged with something, having demands on my time and being able to twirl, twirl, twirl around in a swivel chair. You see I made The Boy throw his away 'because it's ugly and broken and I hate it.' So the only place I can go to twirl now is an office, ever since Office Depot threw me out for twirling all their chairs to bits.

Which brings us to California. My parents live in California because me dear old dad owns a thriving construction business there. And now his PA's walked out. See where I'm going with this? My Pa has offered to fly me out to work for him for a month while he looks for a replacement. How could I say no? They have swivel chairs there.

Unfortunately I am going to miss The Boy an awful lot. But I'll get to hang out with Miss Wiggle and drink her new cocktail the French 75, which apparently involves vodka AND Champange. hmm.

Any San Francisco based readers want to hang out? I'm flying out next week.