In the spirit of life is too short, and I'll have another creative moment tomorrow, here are perfectly imperfect images inspired by @its from @Emily I made this hat back in 2020 and cast it aside as not fitting the way I wanted, still I thought it w — Pink classic cloche on a rainy day in Sceaux inspired by Emily in Paris.

After 6 interviews for what I thought was going to be a dream job; the CEO knew two former big bosses, who I had already confirmed with me, for a recommendation. How could I get a no?

The last step was just to go in person-a day trip to London. I had no idea what I was going to wear, particularly in August heat. I put it in my mind I needed a suit. Something that fit my stressed figure which has mysteriously lost 10 pounds. First a suit; then shoes, and figure out a bag.

I found a suit right away, but it was so expensive particularly for made in China. I found another, not difficult at Max Mara, made in Italy. Interesting less expensive than the first, but still at least year's clothing budget in two pieces. At first I contemplated an off-white one which made me look more like I should be in a mother of the groom photo or a bride in a second wedding. I've never even been close to a proposal, or children. I'm not even sure I even want a first wedding any more. I'm really open to fast forwarding to being a grandmother though. I found out this week I'm officially in menopause.

I walked out of Max Mara with light weight wool suit in fuchsia. It would work with my multi-colored Adidas sneakers. With the shopping high and I didn't have them hem the pants, "I can do that!" There was the extra challenge of having the dog I was taking care of. Ugh, why did I say, 'Yes, Yes, I will take care of that dog for the full month of August!'

Never again!

In thinking about my full look of what to wear, the phrase 'Something old, something new, something borrowed, something blue.' Kept being repeated in my head.I didn't know what I might be able to borrow from anyone, but the idea of a bag would have been useful. Very difficult during August in France. I was essentially being courted for a job that would no doubt interfere with the concept of how to balance a relationship. This job would entail traveling weekly to London for three days, and the rest working from home. My career has been for better or worse, my love, and my great escape. Anyway, the saying eventually became, Something Old, Something New, Something Made, Something Blue. The Adidas sneakers I had for a year already, they would have to do for being old; I made a yellow fluorescent shirt out of material I already had. Blue was scattered about: my fire stone ring, and my tiny sapphire studs that are in the fourth holes in my ears, and a touch in the sneakers.Eventually I splurged on a bag. Incidentally from a company I also thought I might work for, but that has not yet transpired. It was a perfect 'I mean business' interview look.

I knew and still know I am the best candidate for this job.

At home I hung up the suit with so much care not to get a single wrinkle on it and out of the way of the dog. The next morning after my shower I hastily applied lotion, walked into my bedroom, reached into the closet and my hand brushed against the pant leg of my new suit which had yet to fully absorbed the lotion. 'OMG, How could I have done this!'

I asked Dr. Google how to get a lotion spot out of wool, but only after I managed to make it bigger and worse. I have such a difficult time to accept that I can't do everything related to clothing. I correlate this to an immigrant mind set of survival rather than thinking what one can be good at, even if it is not commercial. If one is not bearing a child, nor in a relationship, aren't I (we) supposed to have time for everything else? Drink coffee before it is cold, be in perfect shape, have a clean house, aren't having champagne brunches with friends? I have worked in textiles and fashion for more than two decades, shouldn't I know how to get out a lotion stain out of wool? I fail with wild colors in all these self-appointed standards.

I took the full suit to the only cleaner's I trust in my former Parisian neighborhood in the 5th. The women who run this Pressing never say yes; usually cock their head to one side with me and call me the artist. I've taken everything from Louis Vuitton pieces to smelly flea market bargains. They have worked wonders for my mistakes in the past. I paid for them to hem the pants too.

Heading back to my new home, rounding the corner of the street and literally almost ran into my former neighbor. She's 18 now and was home from school in Scotland. She's grown up in Paris; her mother is from Texas, her father grew up in Rochester, NY, but he is Swiss. She has really interesting ways of speaking English with accents and euphemisms that are not placeable. I can imagine how jealous I might have been of her, had I met her as a teenage peer. Now, I only feel compassion. Her cute ways of communicating sentences with various cultural influences don't "fit" anywhere. She's left feeling as if she doesn't belong and is often teased. She was also looking for work, and she quickly agreed to watching the dog for the day I went to London.

A few days later she came to my apartment, I bought her lunch, and gave her a return RER ticket to Paris and lent her the book Invisible Women, Exposing Data Bias in a World Designed for Men, by Caroline Criado Perez. Why I did say, Yes,! ? Never lend books!

Almost as soon as I lent it, I realized I will need to get it back. It's a reference book for me, and she would be on her way back to Scotland very soon. This would be good practice for me to ask for it back rather than lending something, hoping it will be offered back.

As the reality set in, post whirlwind trip to London, that I wasn't going to get that "dream Job" - I had all the more reason to get the book back. I used to let people keep things I let them, and I built up a resentment toward them, rather than just asking back what was rightfully mine. It reminds me of Simon van Booy's quote, in Love Begins in Winter; "In my youth, all conflict was resolution, just a different form of emptiness." I first read that when I was still in my youth, and it took me years to understand it. Now I just want to fill the inner conflicts with understanding, and know that the outer ones will dissipate when that happens. I guess menopause won't be so bad after all.

When I arranged to go back to pick up the book. I worked in my communications with her I wasn't able to meet up for lunch. Anyway, she was sick; and her mom met me outside. We caught up as we walked together to the pharmacy around the corner. We shared how much life has changed since covid.

Everyday I can't believe my situation. I'm grateful and in awe that I sit here writing about it. Not sure where I will be in a few months. I'm dying for a yes. Will I move? What will be sold, put into storage. All in uncertain. Mary said I needed to talk with her friend, who helped her to organize. I called her a day or so later and broke down in tears of desperation. I don't know what my choices are any more for employment and I keep talking to myself, "Yes, I will make this work," and, "Yes," it is crazy to think of going back and living with my mother. We are just a Central New York Grey Gardens movie waiting to happen. I am not manifesting that. And rue Saint Denis is a place I've learned I don't even want to go to buy thread!

The organizer told me to contact Pam. After some attempts, we agreed to meet at the American Library in Paris. Pam swears we met before, but I don't remember. It is just one more realization for me at how burnt-out I was for such a long time. Some of my memories are scattered while some remain crystal clear.

Now, I'm here, writing all of this, because I joined AAWE, and a writing group. I still don't have a job, or any sort of certainty about where I will be sitting a year from now, or even 6 months from now. But my desperation is much less. I have seven daily affirmations that help me to re-set my brain even when all feels about a strong at the thread available on rue Saint Denis. I'm tired, but I keep going. My coffee is cold as I finish this prompt, and I don't care. Everything today is OK. I'm saying, 'Yes. "Yes, I will figure this out. This is my home, I signed the papers. I'm only beginning. I said; Yes. I will. Yes.