Finally, I have some time of privacy to write. Well, more or less private, since Bel is two steps away from me, playing (terrible) music as loudly as I let him.

Why terrible music? Because he got a gig playing with a pop band this weekend. The pay will be a blessing, but this music sucks so terribly I believe I'm about to have a brain hemorrage. Really. Half my brain will simply leak out from one of my ears and run away, screaming.

But anyway. It's good to have him home, for a change. My mom in law is also visiting, which is good because I've missed her so much and it's bad because it was a surprise visit and I still have no gas. I'm ashamed, I feel like a bad little woman.

I'm trying to find a new job, with notable lack of success. The fact is, I'm not selling my soul for any less than $10,000 (about $1,000 dollars you gringos) a month. And another fact is, in this city you can consider yourself fortunate if you can find a job that pays you $3,500 a month, which is the fabulous sum I'm making now in a part-time job.

I've seen many jobs I might be interested in, for example, as a tourist guide, but they are run by the mob. So I'm out. The rest of them require me to have some sort of degree, and not in literature, but in business or economy. So, they are run by the mob too (insert bitter laugh).

Anyway, I'll keep looking. I've decided to take, once more, the cynical approach and hoist my eyebrow as high as I can lift it. Not only in the professional matters but in all of them. My motto, from now on, is "WHATEVER".

My mother in law is visiting and I can't even offer her a hot shower. WHATEVER.
People suck. WHATEVER.
My job sucks. WHATEVER.
My cat hates me. WHATEVER
My life, quite probably, also stinks. WHATEVER.

See? Works.

Arwen is coming on Sunday to film me. She's making a documentary about Baloo and she wants my input. I truly hope I can manage the right mixture of cynicism and sentiment, a mixture that'll keep me from either bursting into tears or into bright, bitter laughter.

WHATEVER.