Last night another storm was raging over the French countryside, blowing the curtains of our bedroom window in every direction. As I lie awake until the small hours, I was trying to digest different things, in no particular order : my own emotional fatigue, a friend’s distress, the greasy pizza I had for lunch, the Ben&Jerry’s I had for dinner.
Life in France can be « not so nice », especially when :
- your car gets hit by a crazy French taxi driver, who then calls his French taxi-driving buddies to sign up as witnesses of the accident…only to make up their own version of the events (thinking about you C)
- the new sweater you've just bought, even though you couldn’t afford it, has already a tear in it.
- Even your hamster seems to have a cold because of the non-stop shitty weather
- Things are just not turning out as you’d wished / hoped they would
With my head heavy as a bowling ball, and my stomach still in several knots, I’ve decided to take the day off. Me, myself and I tucked away in the little flat in Barbizon. Trying to switch off the thinking-mode, and switch on the TV instead.
1 comment:
I envy your day off, N. Sometimes I wish I had time to recharge the Introvert Battery. Then, I look at my schedule and chuckle at even having the thought.
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