Even with his kiss still on my cheek, the sort of send-off to work that makes the echo of these sharp heels nearly worthwhile...
...the pre-dawn streets were still frigid this morning.
A sleepless night of idle worry about nothing of consequence, a job that is beginning to eat far too far into me, the second hair dryer in two months to suddenly leave my tonne of dead-weight locks soaked and uncomfortable. Little, niggling, inconsequential things and yet they are enough to set my world off balance.
Too fragile, sometimes.
Tonight, another trip to Carrefour in St-Denis to replace such an item of pure vanity (not my proudest passtime, this endless quest for hair dryers), and possibly a romantic pause by the Basilique to make such an empty displacement worthwhile.
The russian I raved about a few days back is in Paris this week.
The excited glow when he asked to be introduced to Gila was the sweetest thing, right up there with fifty-plus k of sheer e-mail love from Steven.
Virtual hugs from across the globe and several serverfuls of New Year's wishes and even some good news on the professional front, coupled with the perfection of his chest against simple black sheets in the pre-dawn light and you would think that my heart would be thrumming.
Just give me a mo' to shake out the cobwebs and I'll be right with you...
So long as my nothing snaps in the tumult.