Let's face it, I live in a hotel. While a nice hotel, it is still weird carrying around an electronic card key instead of a physical key. More often than not, I ride the elevator with strangers who are getting off at any of the fourteen floors below me. Mornings in the elevator are quick, afternoons are often slow.
The best part: no rent or utilities. The worst: knowing I'll move from a two bedroom to a one bedroom in early September. (Nobody likes moving.)
My mail occasionally goes to the mailbox. Often times my red message light blinks to say I have a written message. I press 3 and speak to the front desk who nicely says I have mail to pick up. At first I thought this was because initially I was told not to put my apartment (I'm in a fully furnished apartment) number on my mail. Such is not the case as I picked up mail today, with the apartment number on it, at the front desk. I feel like the front desk associates should be good friends by the time I move out.
Trash is another interesting experience. My trash was overflowing last week and desperately needed to go out. But where do you take a trash bag? Turns out, you call housekeeping. Unfortunately, I had to call a couple times. It was eventually removed. Still odd in my book.
On another note, I got paid today! Woo hoo.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry