Day 26 from France: Foiled Again

Shaboom sends us her update from Paris...

Blah...

I did NOT want to get up today. Could not motivate. It was like torture.

10am breakfast in bed - eggs, potatoes - Didn't feel like eating so I had one sip of tea and an apricot yogurt.

I went downstairs and found some really stinky dried fish aromas wafting through the air. Here's the grossness waiting on the kitchen table. Awesome way to start the day.



1:30pm - I left for the second interview for that office job. I refuse to be late this time!

2pm - I arrived an hour early, parked in front of 34 rue Mozart, then sat in the car and waited.

2:45pm - I moved outside and sat on stoop in front of 3o rue Mozart ...waiting waiting waiting. I wasn't necessarily dressed like a homeless person this time as I knew I was meeting with a woman. I wore a cute spring linen skirt. Unfortunately, since I haven't shaved my legs since before I broke up with Cashew on Valentine's day, I had to wear tights. Having lived in Southern California for over 10 years, I NEVER wear tights. I'm surprised I even own any.



As I looked down, I realized my skirt and sweater wrap didn't match. I always thought the sweater was off-white so grabbed it as I was walking out the door thinking it'd match the skirt perfectly. Not so much. I started feeling minorly horrified. Then I looked down and realized that the tights I was wearing WERE DIRTY! Are you kidding me? I contemplated taking them off when I remembered that my leg hair is long enough to braid at this point. What. I'm trying to be very French.

Apparently, the last time I wore those tights, I must've worn them with black leather shoes or boots because the toes and heals of the tights were dark ...almost navy. I tried to twist them around hoping I could hide the stained areas in my shoes or something but puny flats don't cover much. It was too close to the interview time to take the tights off and turn them all the way around or anything so I had to make do with crossing my legs as seen above. Then, I just needed to figure out how to walk while still keeping my legs in that position.

2:55pm - I was looking at my tight-clad legs and I remembered my ballet dancing years. Oh how long ago it seems now. Pirouette, fouetté, grand jeté! I imagined getting up right then and there and busting out a few moves but it would be just my luck if Madame Perez were to come out right at that moment and know that I was insane before I had even introduced myself. I usually like to save the insane part for the second or third date...

3:10pm - Madame Perez still hasn't shown up

SHIT

I realized I was supposed to be at 34 rue Mozart (where my car was parked.) NOT at 30 (where I was.)

FUCK

3:15pm - Shook hands with Madame Perez. I may or may not have turned it around and convinced her that she didn't see me and that I had been waiting for eons because she started apologizing. Still didn't change the fact that I was late to the second interview (as well as the first.)

3:30pm - She told me she'd call me in three days time, and I was off... back on the road, bravely facing the traffic to go back home.

Ugh

DINNER:
salad and chocolate pudding
tartines with rondelé and homemade strawberry jam that i made last summer



Obsessed! bought me some chouquettes for dessert.



I could not sleep, what a surprise.