Last hour here at work. Thankfully, I work in the front office
because the poor workers in the warehouse are dying. It's over 100
degrees (F) outside here in Los Angeles, and there is no air
conditioning in the warehouse, a metal building seemingly designed to
bake whatever is inside.
When I get home, I'll have to cool the house down (it was 90 (F)
yesterday when I got home). Hopefully one of the roommates will have
arrived before me and kicked on the AC.
I have two roommates. One is a flight attendant for a private charter
airline. She has met incredible people, and has pictures to prove it.
Right outside my door is a picture of her with Bono. Across the hall
from that are two pictures, each with a pope. Yeah, she's met two
popes. Pretty cool.
The other roommate is a naturist and she's into leather. That's cool.
My boyfriend is dominant, so I get that. In fact, she and I have a
lot in common. My roommates almost make Los Angeles tolerable.
And yesterday, I was invited to a party with a friend of mine who
does drag shows. His partner is joining the Navy, so we're saying
goodbye until he returns. And now, the song "In the Navy" by The
Village People is stuck in my head. Dammit.
