HAIRY LEGS AND OTHER CONSEQUENCES OF MOVING FROM LA

As a symbolic good-bye to LA, I shaved my legs today. Whereas only a week ago, contemplating anything other than a full leg wax would have been unthinkable, this morning it once again seemed a perfectly reasonable thing to do, considering the growth on my legs and the inversely available time to go to a waxing place. This is what happens in times of all-consuming projects, like organizing a last minute move. My beauty routine is always the first to be thrown out of the window and my hairs are sometimes, occasionally, allowed free growth for a while. A is a patient man.
I wish it was different, but I doubt anyone who knows me will ever say: "Claire, ah yes, I remember her, and particularly how well she groomed herself at all times."

But we have moved. We are actually in San Francisco. Certain relatives were rather nervous about our intended move. Just ten days ago we did not have a house to go to, and our stuff was still scattered in the usual places. But in good tradition, we did it by working 24 hours a day for a few days, not stopping for food, drink or sleep, obviously leaving no spare minutes for frivolous last minute waxing expeditions, and here we. No troubles. Currently hairless and ready.