I'm in for a very draining end to the week : i've had to suddenly free up my agenda so that i can be out of the office to interview forty odd people 8-/

Anyhow, i was in the process of rushing around reorganising things and getting my stuff together *blue pen ? check ... red pen ? check ... rabbit foot lucky mascot ? check* when one of my trainers stopped by for a chat

Not any old trainer, mind you

T'was none other than BoyIdiot's rapturous one - given what was to transpire in the space of ten minutes, i think i'm going to call her "Enola" :p

So, we were just chit chatting about ex-pat stuff and how strange it can feel sometimes to go back to your home country and not feel anything in particular for it ...

When suddenly, as if by magic, BI was hovering in the doorway 8-ô

I'll give him his dues for he tried his toe curling best to edge his way into things

Which was fine, until the conversation returned again towards Enola's long weekend back in the States ...

And upto the point where Enola said that she really loved being in Paris ...

And how ...

*BI bombshell alert*

"It'll be even better when my boyfriend comes over on a permanent basis"

**crickets**