Monday, July 21, 2008

Advanced Retail Therapy

Ooops, how did that happen?

Let's start at the beginning. Yesterday morning, I met a former colleague from Coma HQ for brunch at Le Bol. I don't think I've mentioned her or given her a blog-name before, but let's call her Kitty, as she is as Japanese and cute as Kitty-chan. I had last seen her on my very last day of work, April 25 2007, when she had come to collect her last maternity leave payment. We always got our salary in cash (!) on the 25th of every month. Since then, Kitty has officially resigned as well as they only allow you a year of maternity leave there which is pretty tough if you have twins like she does.
Kitty and I had a lot to talk about. She told me about her 14-months-old girls and about their long stay in Japan this spring, I told her about my "new" job and whom of our mutual colleagues I'd recently met. When I mentioned my various trips abroad and that I was in New York earlier this year, she sighed and said she'd so love to fly to NY for a long weekend herself and had actually planned to do so with a friend who then couldn't make it for some reason or other. She added that her husband in fact encouraged her to get away for a couple of days while he'd look after the kids. Without thinking I said "Well, if you ever need a travel companion, let me know. I'm happy to fly to NY any time, you know". Her eyes lit up. "Reeeeeeallly? Are you sure" I told her I was, mildly amused by her excitement.
As soon as she got home, she must have asked hubby and looked at the Austrian Airlines website as she immediately called me to suggest a date in November and tell me how much tickets were.
I told her I'd check with the office and tell her this morning. It turned out I had a training in London scheduled that week so we postponed it to the next, but yes, we've booked it.
I suppose it is slightly decadent to fly to NY twice a year for shopping, but I've neve been able to resist a girly weekend abroad and I can always start saving when I grow up, right? Right?
And who am I to burst a sleep-deprived mother's dreams anyway...


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