Small vices (and some afternoon tea)

First goes first, so Happy New Year everyone.
I hope you all had a memorable day accompanied by your beloved ones.
The last few days of the year have been a relaxing balm of happiness to me and my partner as long as we decided to leave stress behind a have a good time together.
These pictures are an illustrative example of it.

I think I´ve frequently told you about my love for tea, as well as the total impossibility of renounce when it comes to my little adiction. I must admit it at least: I am total a tea-dependent, the kind of person who will go techy and grumpy if her vice is not satisfied and who won´t go to rehab (no, no, no...) . Instead, I prefer to keep going ahead, and buying more tea than I can actually drink.

And in the top of all it, I do love to enjoy my terrible, terrible habit (oh God save me!) visiting all the seedy dems of doom for tea-addicts I can find. So as soon as I arrived to Bucharest, I started looking for new places to go and I early barged into Paul.

Paul is a lovely French chain bakery specialized on éclair, pastries and (salivating mouth) macarons.

Obviously, tea is a wonderful side-drink for all this sugary carnival.

 So, last week we were searching for a warm place where we could shelter ourselves from the freezing air and we entered the restaurant located on the university square.

We ordered some Afternoon Tea together with macarons (the ones you can see in the pictures are just the leftovers). They were SO tasty that I totally forgot about my natural clumsyness which was... well, it was just a bad idea. 

I mean, I normally pay attention to my good manners, not for looking fancy or something like that, but for my own safety (I always burn my tongue drinking tea) AND my clothing safety too.
Indeed, fighting against this doom would become one of my New Year resolutions.

Anyway, the thing is that as soon as I forgot about being gingerly the tragedy happened:

All the marmalade filling the macarons decided to slip out and fill my skirt instead.

My floral jaquard favourite skirt.

You can perfectly imagine me rushing on a hypocondriac mood to the restroom and washing the stain. Or trying. Because the whole thing was sticky and a total mess.

But, at the end, the story has a happy ending: the dry cleaner´s staff could manage with my self-originated disaster and my skirt returned to my wardrobe as good as new.

I would love to say that this kind of events are rare on my day-by-day, nevertheless they happen too often. My monthly professional cleaning bill can confirm this. And not to speak about the continuous stream of jokes coming from family and friends... Something you learn to live with.

What else can you do after all?

So tell me darlings, have you had any seasonal accident?