dream: a strong hand over mine, silk dresses, this vintage beaded purse set aside for romantic evenings. dinner is something delicious and slightly sinful.
reality: in the yard, rinsing a blouse free from drops of coffee that have leaked through the space between lid and cup. i want to swear to never touch the stuff again, but what else will abet me in my grand plan of staying alive through 9am psychometrics seminars?
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We do have lovely evenings. Work got a bit overwhelming a couple of weeks ago, and sam decided that Friday Nights are now Juju Nights, which delights me to no end. Anyone can buy fancy earrings and pretty things (which I still gleefully accept, just saying), but only love tolerates the occasional lady meltdown, knows that time out of a crazy busy schedule is just as precious, and that a simple dinner isn’t bad when you’ve got a heaping cone of caramel and butter popcorn to share afterwards. One month to five years! x
retrospectif: a notebook 