Looks can be deceiving.
I look content. I look relaxed. But I'm not. I'm a seething mass of psycho just waiting to explode.
Don't let the new Bruno Magli pumps fool you. This is a woman on the edge. But at least I'm on the edge wearing Bruno Magli shoes. Shoes can make all the difference. Really.
I had a pretty good day. We took the pups and drove to San Francisco and picked up my daughter, Sheila, and my grandson, Cyrus, and my granddaughter, Arianna. We all went to Chrissie Field for a picnic. There were sandwiches, chips, fruit, salads, cheese and a wonderful baguette right out of the oven. We also had root beer, orange crush, and assorted other soft drinks in bottles. My family had just returned from the UK after three weeks of freezing their collective asses off in the cold.
Today was sunny and 70 degrees in San Francisco. It was a perfect picnic and a lovely day. The kids regaled me with their impressions of Brits. My daughter regaled me with her impressions of the crazy Persian family members they stayed with in London and Ireland. We laughed (unkindly sometimes) at the goofy people they encountered in London and on the emerald isle.
We were very close to the Golden Gate Bridge and while I chatted and enjoyed the lovely food and company I thought about the people who had jumped off that bridge in despair. For a crazy moment, I thought that I understood the act.
And then I looked down at my Bruno Magli shoes and realized I would never do such a thing in such exquisite shoes.