To Millionaire Or Not To Millionaire- The Aesthete’s Conundrum
Okay, millionaire is understating it. There’s talk of a job, perhaps a huge job at a giant house for someone who really doesn’t have to worry about their bills. My bones are saying, no, no, no. Absolutely not. Not my style. Not my thing. My head is saying it might be all we need to get back there. To have a bit more security. No offer has materialized as of yet, so I may be panicking entirely unnecessarily- but I tend to do that. If push comes to shove, and something comes of it, I think I’m doing it. We’d be a team of people and I’d only have to work with the only person in the team who I can stand (like?). I need to practice staying very quiet and controlling my patronizing/condescending tone. Sunglasses tend to be sufficient in hiding the eye-rolls. I’m a bit wary of team-work. I’m of a nervous disposition so I end up taking control and ‘appropriating’ everyone else’s job. Que será, será.
This week I bought a mid 19th century mirror from Cristina, one of my favourite dealers in Madrid. It’s nearly 2 metres tall. It’s going to be delivered tomorrow and I’ll hang it somewhere just to see what it looks like in the house. Then I’ll take some pictures and you can see what it looks like in the house. It’s really not a time to be buying things for myself, so I will sell it on, but for a little while it’s mine. MINE! MINE, I say!