Isn't It Ironic?

I'll be so happy when there are no longer Frederico Flintstone updates. This morning he switched hats and became Paul Bunyan as he put down his hammer and chisel and picked up---a chainsaw! My God, the noise! Before it was like a dripping faucet; now it sounds like someone is revving a motorcycle in our apartment. Add to that the racket from the three guys a couple of buildings over installing a roof over a condo's terrace and we're not exactly singing the Eagles "Peaceful, Easy Feeling."

I got a surprise message inviting me to speak at the Cuenca International Writers Conference next week. The topic? What else---blogging! The timing couldn't have been more ironic given that I just re-dedicated myself to posting more. Otherwise I would have felt a bit disingenuous, but with this new energy I accepted and look forward to giving an informative and (hopefully) entertaining talk.

Yesterday was an extremely chill day. I did yoga in the morning and spent most of my time catching up on writing assignments (except for watching an episode of The Voice). Somehow we even managed a nap in spite of all the hullabaloo going on. Our maid comes on Thursday and we're always happy to see her come through the door. We plead guilty to a cultural no-no: all three of us always sit down for lunch together. To do otherwise would feel weird to us, plus we get an opportunity to practice our Spanish.

I didn't even leave the apartment until dinnertime when I walked up the street to get a takeout pizza. I always order the same medium pizza, but I hadn't been there in awhile and, surprise, they've changed the menu. AND the regular girl doesn't work there anymore. Sigh---. When you've been drinking margaritas and you have to suddenly deal with something unexpected it can throw a guy off his game. Somehow one of our normal ingredients, pepperoni, is no longer a choice (how is that possible?), so I scrambled and ordered El Jeffe--"The Boss"-- which pretty much included everything else they had. With pizza and margaritas on the menu we dubbed our meal International Night at Casa Staton.

We couldn't bear to watch yet another debate (is there really anything else to talk about?) so we settled into Season 2 of Downton Abbey before calling it a night.