As if being in Ferguson isn't stressful enough; I had a not so gentle holiday reminder of just how I wear my stress. I'm very well aware of the pounds and the halt to my metabolism. It's also no secret that I've been a finger and nail biter most of my life.
I've done much better on that last one for long periods of time and actually enjoy looking at my hands as an adult.
That changed when Mike and I returned from New Orleans. Stress, fires in Ferguson, holidays...my hands are paying the price. I have been torturing my hands.
Saturday's retail therapy with Kat turned into a little window photography. First, I caught Santa below and then a few windows on our way out.
At this window on the left, a beautiful young woman came up behind us and asked if I liked the window. She said she had designed it so I asked if we could take her photo. Et, voila!
I was happy, but she wanted more. She commented on my hands and that she had just the product for me. I said no, but went inside with her so I could get her email to send her the photo. She asked again. I said no. And then, she steered me over to a woman selling hand products, and I said no again. In my book, I shouldn't have to say "NO" so many times. Kat was outside waiting for me. She said she knew I was in trouble the minute the woman was looking at my hands. We laughed about it together, but I know...I am wearing my stress on almost every finger.
Tomorrow, a story about Kat. I leave you with a sweet shot of her out in front of the same store.
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