I woke up at the ungodly hour of 11 a.m. this morning, because a broker was letting himself into my apartment. Apparently, the Evil Management Company neglected to tell him that someone was living here. Thank God I have a chain on the door.
Anyhoodle, it’s official: I am hopping the bridge. (Or jumping the shark. Or screwing the pooch. Whatever.) I signed my lease on Tuesday and all necessary fundage has left my bank account and I’m moving to Park Slope. According to Gawker’s commenters, this means that I need to get an MBA immediately.