White shirts are from Hell. And remain clean white approximately 3 minutes. Which is a pity because in my new work placement in the museum of Palacio de Lebrija I am supposed to wear one every single day. Neither one Spanish abuela who thought I am the sales assistant when I popped into a shop after work nor the limited use of the washing machine made me any happier with my precious little shirts. This is going to be interesting. And dirty. Seems that they are hoping me to be cabable of giving tours both English and Spanish. Oh well wouldn't count on that too much. English, for sure, but Spanish? Have you ever heard me speaking? "Hello. Vases, statues, paintings, dining room - kettlery, plates, library - books... Thank you and good bye."
I am definetely too old or too tired or too boring person for the type of accommodation I am enjoying at the moment. Yesterday, as usual, my dear housemates where making loads of noise until 1.30 am and then started again around 7 am. If they want to make noise 24/7 at least they could get proper speakers to their laptops. And preferably shut up around 12 pm at schoolnites.
Please please please the Patron Saint of Old Dusty Laptops, please bring my laptop from Helsinki, okay? Please? I said please.
Yesterday night we got stuck into the jam of Spaniards. It's quite impressive how many people they are able to pack into one streets and how many into the next square and so on. The parades were thankfully a bit more interesting in the darkness of the night. So I am maybe going to see more today. Maybe. Just need to stop eating pizza afterwards.
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