Life at № 42
The August Girls are here and we’re having a ton of fun. Next year will be the 10th year we summer together. That’s a long time, isn’t it? The other day we were talking about how good looking I was when we first met. Not so much talking about it, as me announcing it as a statement of fact.
Anyway, we were talking and I think I want to have a gap year. But one where I stay home. So in essence a regular year, but one where I don’t work. And maybe where I limit my use of the internet/tv/news. Perhaps I’ll want to do that forever. The outside world is annoying. I’m not sure how interested I am in working anymore. Maybe I should retire early so I can fill out the word gentleman whenever I have to put a profession down on a form. What do you do? I’m a gentleman. You know there’s a word in French for a gentleman’s house: gentilhommière. But that’s only used for houses in the countryside. Number 42 is a city house.