All grown up...

.. On a business trip! I feel so grown up and part of the "real world"!
Big whoop!!

As I have told you last time I got a promotion at work. One of the perks of me stepping up in the big career world is business trips. Yes, plural, tripS. First, I had to go to our office in Brussels to perform my "business magic". For 3 days.

So, last Monday my alarm made himself known at 5 in the morning. A time I only know exists when I come home from dancing and partying. It was hard. Really hard. But I guess miracles do exist because I actually made the 06.23 train without rushing. I could even spoil myself with a Venti caramal macchiato! Heaven in a big cup!
Once I was settled in my seat I finally turned into a n actual human being. How do normal people do this?! It's HARD! Luckily I have about an hour and a half to become my bubbly self again..

Because of the storm I was 1.5hrs late, so much for miracles happening because I had to rush anyway. With a trolley and a backpack and in heels.. Yeah, I'm really not cut out for trotting the Globe all by myself. I'd love to though! Still need a bit of practicing.. For all safety I just jumped in a cab at the station. Since I was already late and people were waiting for me, I didn't want to pull an Independent woman and taking the risk in getting lost..

I really had a great time at the office. Everbody was so nice ad sweet to me. The hotel booked for me was so pretty! I really felt lavishly spoilt. But of course I deserve it after all my hard work!;-)
Luckily I did not have to dine all by myself and I could eat together with a Dutch colleague based in the Belgian office. Fun, but it was even better when I got back to the hotel room and could just sit in the bath tub til the water got cold and I was a wrinkly old prune. Love it!

After a couple of days hard work it was time for me to head back home. The taxi driver didn't speak any English or French and my French isn't good enough to understand his fluent jibberjabber. Great.
So when we arrived at the station he told me something about 'ici' and 'police' and all I thought was 'what'?! After more persistent jibberjabber from his side (monsieur refused to speak any slower so I could perhaps understand him) I finally understood that he couldn't drop me off  at the usual taxi stand because there were police cars with their lights flashing. Ok. So he would stop in the middle of the freaking tram tracks so I could literally jump out, get my suitcase almost thrown at me and with a good catch I could be on my way... Awesome.. Always so polite, the French.

Anyway, I had some time to kill at the train station which, for me, means SHOPPING TIME! Of course, first of all real Belgian chocolate. I know I will get lynched if I don't bring back some to my near and dear so I dutifully started packin' some of the C-drugs. And not on the hips but in my suitcase, so I was cool with it:-). The train station has plenty of shops for me to lose track of time in, but I manage to contain myself and only buy diner for myself; some burger menu at -what is supposed to be- the Belgian equivalent of McDonalds. Only it's not. They didn't even pretend to pass their bacon off as real bacon. It really feels and tastes like fried pieces of tire. So that was an epic fail. Apart from the churros which were good comfort food.

So with half a tire-sandwich I hop on the train to get back home. Once there I feel like this overly excited puppy who needs to pee everywhere to mark his territory. Which I don't do, only drop my stuff everywhere I walk.

The hotel room was very pretty and the bed was very comfortable, but nothing beats my own bed...

As Dorothy puts it: There's no place like home.. Now I only have to get my own own pair of glittery red heels..


Jazz.