Boy, it sure takes long to have your boiler decalcified. I had to wait around for three hours and keep the kitties company because they couldn't leave the room so they wouldn't leave the apartment. Of course, they were *really* interested what was happening in the kitchen. Why, I'd like to know because the boiler guy sure was uninteresting as hell. Reeked, too. Oh, well, toiling at boilers all day doesn't make you smell like roses. I sort of resent that he smoked in the kitchen, though. Not that we don't smoke in there (well, I don't, but that's beside the point) but he couldn't know that. He should at least have asked for permission. But I didn't catch him in the act, when I came out it just vaguely smelled like smoke and there was ash in one of our ashtrays. Picky, picky, picky me. But now he's finally gone.
So I got to watch all the RTL morning shows. First "My wedding" where I'm always glad I'm not marrying. At least not one of those people. Then "Dr. Stefan Frank (The Doctor Women Trust)". Today they aired the very first episode. Sad, because that means now we'll have to go through the whole thing again! Good, because a) I'll be working soon and hence miss it anyway and b) I got to see what happened to Dr. Stefan Frank's wife (went ka-blam on a boat five minutes into the episode). Then "Family Feud". Stupid people, as usual. Name a mountain in the Alps. "Mount Everest". Uh huh. I have no idea whatsoever about geography and I would have been pressed hard to think of another mountain besides "Zugspitze" but even I know that Mount Everest != Alps. Or even =! Alps, I keep forgetting where the exclamation mark goes. Whatever: Alps it ain't.
Then "Punkt 12". Juliette of Superstar fame is Sexiest Woman Alive or some such. The new Superstar series is on its way. Dieter Bohlen and the Superstar jury relax somewhere. It's "Superstar News at 12", apparently. Then SAM (Superfluous Afternoon Magazine). They interview a woman whose husband apparently killed two women and now is in prison. She doesn't believe it. Just imagine you come home and the police are there because your husband's a killer. I guess I'd have a hard time believing it either...
Now Arabella. D! of Popstars fame is a guest today. Yikes! He's only three years older than I. At least he claims to be only three years older. Since I claim to be five years younger that makes at least eight in total.
Do I need to do something constructive today? Nah. I think I'll call Katrin who's recovering from a cold. Then we can go to the movies or something. Once I'm working I won't be able to veg out anymore anyway.