Oh lord. Just got off the phone with ex-boss. She's selling her condo (we weren't talking about that, it's very not my style, though gorgeous). Some people were coming to view at a time when she couldn't so her boyfriend, a fabulous pastry chef, was going to let them in and out.
But he showed up dressed all scruffy, so she made him pretend to be the handyman! The non-english speaking handyman. She is something else, all right. He was fine with it - in addtion playing along and not saying more than bonjour (he does have a very thick accent), he put on headphones to make it seem like he couldn't hear anyway, and busied himself with a project.
Of course, in addition to listening in on what the viewers (father buying a place for his daughter) said, he put out a plate of his own chocolates so he could hear their reaction to thoseas well.
That's just a French farce movie waiting to happen, that is.
Totally. Her life is kind of that.
(Oh, and they lost the apartment. When she moved in she had a gorgeous gas fireplace put in, which really makes the whole place. The father was all "What a waste of space. You could put a cabinet there."
Let that be a warning to other prospective househunters. 'Ware the hot French handyman, 'ware!)
In fact, if you SEE the hot french handyman call me right away.
I'd not be worrying about minor design flaws if I thought a prospective place came with a hot French handyman.
So I finally got a gmail account so I could freaking send mail from my mailer on this computer. My stupid isp couldn't give me the right configs for outgoing mail. It's only been a year (I can use their webmail interface, but I kinda hate it.) I'll keep the isp email account, but still. WHY MUST THEY BE DIFFICULT?
And OWOWOWOWOWOW! I just stood up from the balance ball. Which stuck to the back of my legs. OW. Time to toss a dishtowel over it.
I have doors at work too. But they trap me into a room with kids.
Yeah, sadly, she's keeping him. Though I'm not entirely sure whether a comment about getting rid of him would have elicited near the reaction that dissing the fireplace did.
Her other prospect lives in a townhouse across the street and wants her place for an office and for socializing. People=crazy.
This is what I did for the late afternoon. That and sign consent forms for Noah's surgery tomorrow. I need to make a Noah binder and a Grace binder.
OH and I chased down insurance adjustments for my HMO stuff. And I laughed and laughed and laughed at the huge EOB that came for Noah today ($438,318.18). Is it bad that I want to make an itemized list, including conception charges, meds, prenatal care and now this to trot out when Noah asks me to buy him a car or some other such?
I have doors at work too. But they trap me into a room with kids.
Nobody in my office has doors. Not even the Americas CEO.
