Beauty is in the Eye of the Holder of the Handbag

Well, what a week.  Bought house, check.  Wore almost every swanky outfit in my wardrobe, check (except for the GORGEOUS polka dot skirt which I am still trying to find a suitable top for…let it be said that when I find one and finally step out in said skirt with hot red heels, heads will turn, not to see me per se, but to admire the skirt and the shoes which are both smokin’…).  Made the most of my equally gorgeous blue italian leather handbag that arrived this week, check (have had a minimum of 3 compliments per day on that handbag).

Had wonderful lunch with old work colleagues.  Had wonderful lunch with new work colleagues.

Spent much time conversing on email with cute detective who is now my date for Sunday afternoon.  Spent approx 2 hours chatting on facebook with personal trainer, plus an additional 20 minutes sitting in gym post workout talking, not exactly sure what’s going on there, probably just talking, which is fine because he’s about 4 years younger than me.  He gets 5 gold stars though for telling me I’ve lost weight AND denying that I smell bad even after sweating solidly for a good 40 minutes.

Spent no more than half an hour total wondering what is with Facebook guy from last Friday.

So, by last night I was feeling pretty darned pleased with myself.

And then I had a dream.  And then I saw her on my way to work this morning. And then I could not stop thinking about Mr X all day.

Not even being pampered by a beautician for an hour and a half was sufficient to lighten my mood. Although my skin does look visibly brighter.

I have been so excited about the house (although that too is still not actually a a done deal yet as the offer is still conditional to the strata allowing dogs, and even though they  have verbally confirmed its all ok, I have yet to see a written copy of the by-laws…grrr).  And I have told pretty much everyone I know about it.  Except Mr X, and it just doesnt feel like Ive told everyone until Ive told him, because he is the first person I think of when I have exciting news.

But Im not going to be the one to tell him.

Its been almost 3 weeks since I spoke to him last and I was doing so well.  Until the dream, until seeing her (granted she was by herself, on her way to work, but its still a kick in the gut given she is so darned beautiful, with a cool car, and probably a much cooler house than the little modest plot I have just purchased).

What am I going to do with myself?

Well, as far as I know there is more retail therapy to come tomorrow, so Id better make the most of it as this frivolous spending will absolutely have to stop very soon.

In the meantime I might just go sit and admire my handbag, how can one not feel happier in the presence of such beauty?

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