Not, I am sure, a word many people would associate with me - I am not an exhilarating person (is that a "thing", does it even exist? My mind is fuzzy tonight...) and I rarely feel exhilarated.
But.
Today, not one, but TWO men told me I am beautiful and, however fickle it may be, it has left me feeling exhilarated. The first was a fellow inmate, a kindly old man (so, yeah) who saw me as we waited to be let into the dining room for lunch and said that I was "as beautiful as ever". I was flattered, but a little sceptical given that I was wearing black jeans that are too big and a fairly boring purple striped smock type thing. Plus, he's old. But still, the words were nice to hear.
Better still, Y and I were continuing on our tidy-my-flat kick (progress IS being made, it's just that it's kind of hard to tell. Still) and he found an unused notebook with a painting by Alphonse Mucha on the cover. I said I loved the notebook because Mucha is one of my favourite painters and because the picture is beautiful. It's this one:
And he said that the woman looks like me. I replied that I wish it were true because she's beautiful and he responded to that with the exhilarating, "she has red hair like you and you're beautiful too". My heart skipped at least one beat, possibly more. I mean, the resemblance is far from striking (I persist in saying she's more beautiful than I am, not to mention considerably younger), but oh, how nice to hear those words!
Tonight, as I prepare myself psychologically for filling in my year-late tax form, I can't help but feel more than a little exhilarated. Heh. Who knew?
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