Being around during the day, I've been discovering things about my neighbourhood that I never found during my back-and-forth walks to the office. I found out this week that the nondescript office building across the street is a beauty and hair school and they have a spa! Joy of joys! I booked myself in for a one-hour spa manicure, for the whopping cost of $15. My esthetician was maybe 19 years old, a cute little blonde girl with glasses in a black smock. She gave me the manicure of my life, chattering away about her course as she worked on my hands, consulting a checklist as she went. She told me about her upcoming trip to Hawaii, and told me that it would be her first time on a plane. She asked lots of questions about my time in Maui, and I reassured her about the safety of flying. She also proudly showed me her term project, a binder she had put together on aromatherapy, flipping through the pages and pointing out the research she had done. I was touched that she had decided to show this to me, and asked questions and made exclamations as we made our way through the binder.

When my esthetician had finished the manicure - which included paraffin treatment and massage - she carefully wrote down for me the name of the nail colour she had used on my hands, and gave me a card with her name on it and asked if I would come back for another treatment with her. And I will - sure, because it's cheap, but also because I felt so, well, honoured by how hard this little girl was working at what she was doing. I aspire to have that level of dedication in whatever I do, and hope it shines through in me the way it did in this girl. I left with beautiful nails and a smile on my face.