JANUSFILES2 . . . ENTRY #0163 . . . OPEN:
In my last entry, I mentioned that I was in the process of cleaning my condo. I still haven't completed it, but at least the main reason for doing so is out of the way.
I had spent most of the last couple of weeks trying to clean the place. I won't go into details, but I was doing this because someone was paying a visit that lasted, at most, 15 minutes. I also spent a good portion of the last couple of weeks stressing out over the visit, for two reasons. First, there was the reason for the visit, which, as I said, I would rather not mention the sordid details. Second, I'm not really not that good a housekeeper. In fact, my housecleaning skills do not come up to the high exacting standards of Oscar Madison.
Yesterday was the visit, and I was cleaning up until about 10 minutes before my visitor arrived. At that point, I realized that I had completed as much as was going to be completed. And it was time to face the visit itself.
As you perhaps may have already guessed, I don't entertain. In fact, I tend to stress out when someone else is in my condo, which probably explains my somewhat . . . relaxed attitude toward housecleaning. If I remember correctly, the last person in my condo (other than me, of course) was a plumber sometime last year.
By the time my visitor left, I was in need of something to destress me. I recently read that two good ways of dealing with stress were sex and chocolate. Well, one of those is not a viable alternative, and it would probably take more chocolate than I could comfortably consume to ameliorate my stress levels at the time. Fortunately, simply getting out of the condo for a few hours handled things quite nicely.
While I was doing the cleaning, I discovered a box of Baci that had gotten buried under some other stuff. The box (and they) were slightly smashed, but were otherwise all right.
Unwrapping these Baci proved to be a slight challenge. After all, I didn't want to damage the love notes underneath the foil. And I was rewarded for my efforts with these notes:
"Doubt thou the stars are fire . . . But never doubt my love." -- William Shakespeare
"The woman does not exist of whose beauty all men shall agree upon." -- G. Leopardi
JANUSFILES2 . . . ENTRY #0163 . . . CLOSE
A Rainy Sunday in Paris
6 years ago