Sitting atop a pile of minor stresses, an interview at the bank with my new commerciale, this or that errand, packing my bag before stopping off at work before racing madly for my train to Limoges.
I should be in the shower already.
The coffee is bubbling, incense is burning so that my appartment doesn't smell so foreign when I get back.
I had to argue with the boys to not come fetch me at the train station on Thursday night. They don't want me taking the m�tro alone at night.
It was sweet.
The session technique last night was slow, lots of showy tricks, flips, the slalom cups taken by guys practicing the "crazy cuts", me going around two trees instead, practicing simple crosscuts.
And going up stairs.
Without stopping.
Somehow, it just fell into place, Guillaume racing ahead of me, Elodie, the "I had brain cancer let me tell you my medical history" girl pattering slowly behind us.
I can go up the steep sidewalks now too, another goal reached, slowly, but surely, from some time ago.
Down is slower, and the last hop down to the car to de-chausser and head home involved a full stop and a step down, but I did it without help and injury, so progress was made.
That counts.
What also counts is the recurring face of some boy from the housewarming party on Friday night, discussing this or that aspect of the computer industry, linux, java, application production, a handful of small things...
And then when he left, unlike the others, without trying to lean in too close to breathe alcohol into me, without asking for my number, without grinning inanely like the kebekois are learning to do and the parisiens have always done, he waved goodbye and thanked me for my smile.
Shy, almost, he half-stuttered out, while waving his hand about his chin, "a beautiful face, a beautiful face", and left.
And left me feeling beautiful, not small, not dirty, but standing proudly in my corner, glad to have come.
In the train tonight I will practice the kawasaki rose formation, not with intent to finish it, but with intent to improve my diagonal folds.
Tomorrow will be a whirlwind that I have not yet begun to feel prepared for, Thursday more of the same, the weekend filled with this or that salon and plans for rollerblading, and bright first thing Tuesday morning...
...I will have fierce princess hugs.