So the Skipster (mi abuela) had surgery a couple of days ago on her sinuses...again. She sounded a little funnier than normal for a day post-surgery when I called her yesterday, so I called her again today just to check on her. And again. And again. And nobody answered. So finally, exasperated, I called the house phone. And this is how the conversation goes:
Skip: (in a hushed whisper) Hello?
Me: Uh, hi. Are you ok?
Skip: Yes, why?
Me: Cause you're whispering like someone's holding a gun to your head.
Skip: Oh, it's cause we're watching TV. Aren't you watching the President?
Me: Uh, Skip? I don't have a TV.
Skip: Oh yeah...
It's worth me pointing out that even if I did have a TV, chances are I wouldn't be wasting my time on that drivel. That's like an hour of your life that you can never get back...true story.
Tomorrow's Friday, and that means that I will have *officially* survived my first week as a working girl. I'm muy happy.
This weekend is the Fiestas de la Calle San Sebastian here in San Juan. I hear this is a bigger party than Mardi Gras...and I'm hoping to con at least one cousin into going. Cross your fingers.
And on that note...time for bed. Love to those who listen.
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