One a Day…

And no, I don’t mean apples although that would be a very good habit: I have tried at various times in my life to eat an apple a day and usually make it to about day 3 – does that count for anything?

No, I mean social appointments.

When I checked my agenda yesterday after having had my usual tea with a friend I realized at 19:00 that I had NOTHING on my agenda AT ALL for about 60 hours, i.e. all today, all tomorrow and at least half of Friday (we have not yet determined when the “girls” are going to head for the mountains and a weekend of female fun – a euphemism for hiking, exploring, talking, laughing, eating and drinking probably more than we should – in short enjoying ourselves).

My normal reaction was to pick up the phone, write a couple of e-mails and plan to see all those people that I have somehow neglected throughout the month of May. I was just barely able to stop myself. The first challenge as I told my sister-in-law would be to not plan anything at all – at least until the next morning. I was pretty sure that I could hold out that long, after all I would be asleep for ¾ of the time. I managed – just barely.

Still in the interests of enjoying some me time I did try to be reasonable and finally hit upon a rule: one social event per day, i.e. a coffee, lunch or dinner.

Today I had lunch with my older son – somehow Mexican was on my mind – perhaps from reading Facebook and “haystacks” postings – so we ended up having burritos at Manana.

OK as far as Mexican in Geneva goes, but oh how I long for the true California-style hole-in-the-wall “real” Mexican place. Still I have always missed more European dishes whilst in the USA than vice versa.

Tomorrow I will have lunch with another friend and be very proud of myself for not trying to fit in everyone. However, 48 hours is probably about all I can manage and as of Friday it will be back to social-as-usual (can’t call it business as my friends are more important than that) and slowly over the next few weeks I hope to catch up with those – sorry, sorry, sorry – whom I have not seen for weeks.

A flower in an Italian courtyard