Some days you're more ready to wake up before seven to make hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of pancakes for guests.
Other days it feels like a job where your sleep schedule is funny, you're struggling with intense conversations from the night before and you're just plain tired.
Today was closer to the latter. I woke up, put my hair back in a clip, wore a t-shirt, very little makeup, and hopped on my bike in the pouring rain and got to making those pancakes.
About two hours and two hundred pancakes into my shift, a Spanish guest came up to me and said:
"Sabes--Yo se que no eres holandesa, pero realmente, pareces que pertaneces a un cuadro de Vermeer. Realmente."
Or:
"You know, I know you're not Dutch, but really you look like you belong in a painting by Vermeer. Really"
Such a compliment. I look like a pretty lady painted by a Dutch master.
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