It's beautiful and sunny outside, and cold and dumb inside. Well, okay, it's not dumb but I sure in heck don't feel like working - and how is today different from any other day, I hear you ask - well it's not, and I'm so *over* this working-for-a-living lark. When I grow up, I've decided I want to be one of the Idle Rich. If I was one of the Idle Rich, I'd still be asleep right now. Tucked away in a silken nest dreaming dreams of the Idle Rich and waking up when I'm ready to and not one moment before. Upon waking, I would be lifted lovingly by my minions, my expensive night clothes carefully removed from my body and then gently immersed into softly scented, deep, perfectly temperatured waters of my bath. After my body is clensed and refreshed it's ready for the day. Towel dried and exquistly dressed in weather and fashion appropirate attaire, my minions would stand on the steps waving goodbyes as my car crunches the gravel driveway of my country residence, safely whisking me to my first appointment - brunch with my fascinating idly rich friends. We'd drink coffee and eat mouthwatering brunch foods smothered in maple syrup. Why? because we can. The Idle Rich never put on weight. Extra (creme fresh fraiche [thanks Sam]) creme freche [thank you, JJ] Madam? why yes, I think I will. We'd laugh overly loud because we're awfully funny. We have opinions on the price of gold and the shocking diamond market latest offerings from Apple and the coolest trends on the Internet. After a while, I'd be bored and need to shop - because as funny as my fascintating friends are - they're not *that* funny. My driver would take me to the most exclusive stores and carry my purchases of clothes and makeup and jewellery. After such an energetic morning, I might feel the need to nap, so George (he's my driver) would take me to my downtown apartment where I can kick off my Italian leather shoes and lay back on my imported leather couch and snuggle under my mink throw and sleep until I wake up ready for a late lunch with some more fascinating idley rich friends. Dinner would be a late affair with so much laughter and expensive champagne - the idle rich are this city's bread and butter. We'd talk about where we are going for the summer/winter/tennis/skiing/computer conference this year/next week/tomorrow. We'd say things like "never to to Paris at this time of the year" and "you simply must see Africa after the rains" "oh yes, I bought Google on Tuesday" and "My new G6 arrived - they made it pink especially for me" - because being a geek is way cooler when you are idle and rich. *sighs* one day, Wallywhoppy, one day. But not today. At least I have the first part of being one of the idle rich down pat, now I just need the "rich" part.

I will never drink tequila AGAIN!! I'm still hungover - at the back of my mind and the pit of my stomach and the snap of my temper. I bought a new pair of sneakers today - and that's about *all* I could manage today. The intention of working in the afternoon was replaced by the need to sleep. And I did, like an afternoon log until a telephone woke me and dragged me back into the day. This story made me cry. What the hell was an 11 year old boy doing in Tokanui.