So sorry, I’ve neglected Friday@Flore this month, but working in the ‘burbs has made it rather impossible to spend my afternoons sipping champagne. I’m working on a solution!
In the meantime, I’m on a flight bound for Venice, where I’ll be exploring the city and wearing The Dress with Mr French. I am very excited! And a little nervous. Keeping my fingers crossed I don’t break a heel, or fall into a canal. Both of which are possible as my heels are ridiculously high and fate-temptingly thin.
Shopping for the dress was a dream come true, but I hadn’t realized that it would require new shoes. In fact, there were lots of little details to take care of that I didn’t consider until I started packing…. like finding the backless bra I’ll need, choosing the “right” stockings (I thought nude, the sales girl rightfully pointed me towards transparent black), picking the right wrap (I was going to wear white, Mr French suggested the perfect grey), pulling out the tummy-tucking, ass-lifting under garments, putting aside a bit of make-up, selecting the fragrance, packing the evening bag and booking an on-site hairstylist. Oh, and running out of the office, between meetings, to get waxed just hours before leaving.
Yesterday, in the sardine-can-commute via metro, the man who was sharing the central pole, squished up against me had pink eye. He rubbed his eye, and touched the pole several times. I was horrified as I started manically repeating the mantra; get to work, go directly to the washroom, scrub your hands. Do not pass go, do not collect 200$. I was so deep into my meditation that I wasn’t aware of my own hand reaching up to itch my left eye. Brilliant.
Then this morning, as I bent down to kiss a sleeping Em goodbye for the day, she lifted her head bashing my two front teeth into my lower lip. Which has swollen to twice its regular size.