Polystyrene protected, perfect pink peaches.
Usually I hate this kind of fruit. It's over-produced, over-pampered, over-priced, obligation inducing fruit. Thank you for what you did fruit, thank you for what I want you to do fruit, sorry fruit, get well fruit...
But today I accepted my peaches guilt free.
I feel I've earned them.
It all started out quite innocently. One of my senior ladies class students asked me how far X hotel was from Sydney Harbour. (I've only been to Sydney twice, never stayed in the fancy X hotel but am obviously an expert on it simply by virtue of my nationality...) I googled X hotel, replied '5 minutes walk' and thought the good deed was over.
Not even close...
Next thing you know I'm booking a day tour of Sydney (complete with lunch on the Harbour) not for my student but for my student's friend's daughter and her friend. And doing all this through my student and the touree's mother as go betweens.
A week of emails and phonecalls and fretting over details and wondering why anyone who can't understand the booking page would want to go on an English language tour in the first place, and feeling responsible if anything goes wrong or if the tour is crap or it rains or something (I have my fingers crossed I'm not considered responsible for inclement weather but you never know...)
So yeah, I am going to eat these peaches, enjoy these peaches and consider myself well worthy of their shameless exorbitance.
Then it will be back to a stress free life enjoying fruit of the windfall and misshapen variety.