Bureaucrazy

Stuart Weitzman sandals in plastic fantastic. Souvenir shoes from St. Tropez. Perhaps not the best buy I have made, I must admit. I thought they looked very cool in the store. But later - naah. I don't know. They're not flipflops and not proper sandals. Just somehere in between.

Stupid shoes for a shitty day is a good match, I guess. I have been waiting all day to get a confirmation from our realtor in "Frrrrance" regarding the final contract signing. Well. Everything I have heard so far about French bureaucracy happens to be true. Since I am not a very patient person when it comes to general stupidity or incompetence I have not been in the best mood this afternoon.

To get my mind off the fact that there will be no signing of contracts this weekend (and no corresponding celebration seafood extravaganza at Astoux!) I went out to buy some dinner. I was run over by a woman with a stroller upon exiting our house, and it just went upwards after that. I go to the fishmonger perhaps once every four months. Today I felt like eating very healthy (still feel bad about my affair with Ben & Jerry last weekend), so I decided to buy some trout. Guess what! The fishmonger is closed for renovations!

Ok. As my mood deteriorated further, drastic actions were needed. A visit to the local Monsoon store should help. Right. I was run over by another stroller on my way over there (ouch!). And, of course, they did not have the amazing summer dress in my size. On my way to the grocery store I stopped by our local dry cleaner to pick up one of my husband's suits. Being served by some nitwit that did not volunteer to take the blame for my shirts not being ironed properly a couple of weeks back did not exactly improve my mood, neither did the fact that the annoying girl behind the fish counter did not want to take the skin off my fish (I do not like fish that looks like FISH!).

After carrying the suit and all the groceries home, I felt like a chimpanzee dragging my stretched arms along the floor. And then. I manage to kick into the leg of our kitchen table. Nnnnnnnngh!

Some say that the pain you feel when you hit the delicate nerve-endings of one of your toes is about as bad as giving birth. I have no idea, but it sure hurts like hell. It almost got me in tears.

I think I will just try to sit quietly in a corner for a little hour or so now, and not move. Hoping that this will all just go away.