A pickle

So I don't have a great track record with gifts for Nancy. I've had a few winners, and as long as I get her exactly what's on her list I'm ok, but too often I get something that I think is perfect, that tells her how much she means to me -- only to find that her gracious "thank you" is the last I ever hear or see of the gift.

Well this Christmas another problem surfaced with her gifts. She got some perfume from someone. It was perfume that she asked for, that she used to wear (I assume long before we ever met) that she loves. Now she's wearing it. I can hardly stand it. I'm in a pickle.

I was working in my office and she came and sat beside me while she was talking with someone on her phone - calendar in hand - trying to schedule her week. After about 5 minutes, I looked to her with an unintentional grimace on my face and whispered as delicately as I could "I think I'm getting sick from the smell of your perfume." She promptly got up and left.

In my defense (to all of you contorting your mouths and saying "ooooh") -- I was getting nauseas from the smell, and the grimace that she came back and informed me was on my face -- really was unintentional.

I'm sitting here - alone - in my office now with the window opened trying to clear some of the aroma, still feeling nauseas. I think I need to wash my hands because the smell is still strong on my skin from touching her sleeve.

I'm anticipating a tearful conversation later today or this evening when I get home from drawing.

Changing subject completely, tonight I will be taking the life-drawing class to a dress rehearsal of a musical performed by Open Stage Theater Company. We will be drawing from the performance. This was not my idea -- someone else had the flash of light -- but I think it's a great idea and I'm looking forward to it.

I still feel sick, so I'm going to get some water. I'm wringing my hands.