printanière.
After suffering for more than a week with a bout of vertigo (and how does one, out of the blue, get hit with a bout of vertigo? what a preposterous malady), I finally arrived at work in high spirits this morning. My co-worker said that I seemed rather printanière today. And now I’ve decided to become a fille printanière— a sprightly, springtime kind of gal. Can I just decide that? Or is it no use to deny my broody, brumal nature?
