Thanks to the three day weekend here in France, I had Monday off - a nice treat. To celebrate another day of lounging around in my PJs with Fabrice and to thank him for last night's amazing dinner, I decided to cook us an Italian-inspired meal.

On the menu were arugula salad with parma ham, shaved parmesan, and a dressing made with aged balsamic vinegar and lemon olive oil. A few sprinkles of fleur de sel with lemon zest completed the salad. Next came a simple beef carpaccio with a secret sauce. Don't get too excited. All I did was defrost the package, place the beef on a plate, sprinkle on the sauce, and voila. Yeah, pretty simple. To finish, a lovely, rich fettuccini Alfredo with chopped parsley.

The dinner was great I must say. But the interesting thing wasn't the food, it was my cooking techniques.

I really did think I was a clean person. Honestly. But living with Fabrice has taught me that I've actually been living in a fantasy world all this time. To put it mildly, Fabrice is very clean - a trait highly prized and honored in the three star restaurant where he works. Those traits carry over to his personal life as well. When I entered into that life, I think I set his whole world on its ear.

As we finished dinner and Fabrice headed to the counter with his plate, he looked down on the floor. I accidentally dropped some chopped parsley on the floor. He stood there looking at the floor for a few silent moments before looking up me. "Parsley grow in nature, yes?" he asks. "Yes," I timidly respond. "Honey, if you put parsley on the floor, it's not going to grow," he jokes. "It's like nature came inside while you were cooking. Look, it's even managed to find it's way onto the washing machine!"

With a sigh (and a smile), he bends down and cleans up my mess. On one hand, I'm mortified because I'm messier than him. But on the other, I can't help laughing. It's like being at work, even when I'm at home. At the pastry shop where I am an intern, I must be extraordinarily clean at all times. That means my workspace, equipment, and uniform must be spotless. At home, I'm a little less careful to say the least. I drop things on the floor, get crumbs in the bed, and drip yogurt on my shirt. When Fabrice catches me doing any of the previously mentioned, I get scolded (in a good humored way).

It makes me realize that yes, I do need to be more clean - not only in my professional life, but my personal life as well. Don't get me wrong, I am a fairly clean person. But I do leave an occasional dirty dish in the sink, forget to make my bed, or drop a few crumbs on the carpet without picking them up. It has finally occurred to me that even though there is a line of separation between my personal life and work life, there are traits that cross the line. Being clean is one of them.

So the next time I'm making dinner, I will be more careful. I will try not to drop things on the floor. I will do dishes as I get them dirty instead of piling them up until the end. I will even clean up after each task so my work surface and surrounding areas are clean at all times.

I'm lucky to be learning such good lessons in Paris. And I have such a good teacher!

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