Trying to love my job.

I've come to the conclusion that every single woman in Chiswick has a baby. Every single one. I actually believe it's a requirement to live here. They all have really expensive prams, and about a third of the women are American women who married rich, which I think really says something about our culture. That reminds me, I got my 'Idaho? No, Udaho!' shirt last night, and I am going to wear it to work tomorrow. SO excited!!

I also have gotten to the point where I can't walk through Chiswick on my lunch break without seeing a client from the gym. So i'm like a celebrity, except instead of acting in movies, I answer phones. Yeah.

There is a garbage man in Chiswick who makes my day better, every day. He looks like the singer Mika, and every day he wears the same outfit- bright green pants, a yellow tshirt with some 80s icon on it, thick framed yellow sunglasses, and huge headphones. And this Mika guy dances whilest picking up rubbish. He dances constantly! He changes the garbarge bags, picks things off the floor, wheels his cart around... and dances. He's the poster boy for enjoying your job. He's completely oblivious that he's somewhat of a tourist attraction here in Chiswick. It almost makes me want to pick up rubbish, it seems like I'd enjoy that more than my job. After all, he loves it! He's so damn cool.

Damn, I almost got Olympic rower Peter Reed all to myself. He is SO yummy, just wanted to come in to row without his shirt on, in which case I'd go in and pretend to do laundry for an hour or so =D but we close in 20 minutes, so he went home. Damn. Gosh I'm weird!

I've been fighting off a migrane since I got up this morning, which is why I'm more negative than usual today. But now (well, in 20 minutes) I'm going to meet my good friend Kiwi Jen Party (yes, she has three names) to tell her all the secret and exciting things I've been up to. You know, like being an international spy and such. 007.5 yeah. And she's going to tell me about Ascot, and about going to Fabrik this weekend. 15 minutes.

18 days until I go home.