Not Pregnant

“Congratulations, you had your baby!”  Insert confused look here.  “The other day I was in shopping, and you were pregnant…?”

Working as a stylist/retail bitch is sometimes rewarding but a lot of the time monotonous and slightly demeaning.  In this particular instance I was dealing with two extraordinarily wealthy clients.  Both girls were foreign exchange students from the same city, but became BFFs when they met their first year in college.  They also have monthly allowances of what I hope my yearly earnings will one day look like.  On Monday they took full advantage of that allowance.  On Wednesday they were back to exchange almost half of their purchases.  On Monday I was wearing a boxy turtleneck sweater dress – one of those heinously-on-trend looks great on a super model type pieces – and on Wednesday I was back to my crop top and high-waisted jeans (lazy) routine.

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Camino de Santiago: Zabaldica

Click, thunk, click, thunk.  It is only the click, thunk of hiking poles that I can hear.  It is this rhythm that must propel me the last three kilometers.  However, as I round the corner and my eyes dart up the hill that promises not only a convent but also a bed, shower, and meal I see a group of six retreating down the hill.  I am crushed – another one full or closed?   “Its beautiful up there!” a pot bellied Irish man at the head of the pack yells down to me.  “That church – 12th century! – what a sight,” the woman behind him concurs.


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