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Because I usually am in Vino ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** In 2009, I gave up my studies as a medievalist and musician, left my home, my family, my life and moved to Provence in southern France for a guy. In 2012, I moved away from him to study wine. Today, I'm a vagabond sommelier working in Paris at one of the oldest and most famous restaurants in the world, struggling to find some purpose to what I deem the rest of my life. I'm still married and after 8 10 years, I'm still trying to fit-in with French life and culture and to understand why the French are the way they are. Because they're weird in a different way that I think Americans are weird. Perhaps it's me who's weird. |
| It's strange but I woke up this morning missing Paris. I have the tiniest apartment on the planet, the city smells terrible, it's a cesspool of infection and insecurity, most everyone is miserable (oddly enough, I have nothing against most of the people), there is a massive and obvious class divide, it takes 1 hour to get anywhere - ANYWHERE - even down the street and it was once filled with tourists. And did I mention it's expensive? So expensive. But I miss it. I want to walk around the Opera in the 2nd and pretend I'm trendy in the 10th and laugh at the students in the 5th and smoke outside of a café in the 6th. I want to fight the Asian and Russian tourists in the shops and when I go running I want to follow some firefighters 2km. I want to almost get hit by a bus. I want to take the metro lines 1 and 14 and contemplate that the only reason the super tall plexiglass guard rails are there is because the city didn't want the tourists to be hampered by how many people throw themselves in front of the subway cars everyday. (Sadly this is not an exaggeration. At least one person dies from suicide by subway car each day in Paris. If you visit the city and your metro is delayed this is quite likely the reason.) I want to have to watch my purse closely and surveille everyone suspiciously. Paris is in all respects, a weird, weird place. But I miss it. The lockdown ends tomorrow but Paris is in "the red zone" and travel has been restricted so that I can't actually travel to the city without a permission slip. I will have to ask my employer if they can write me one even if work isn't allowed to reopen. At least I can go running again and leave my house as many times as I like during the day. Although I wonder how this is going to work in Arles since I fear there is a large part of the community that is too uneducated to understand that the end of lockdown does not mean it's the end of the virus. I'm sure there are plenty who do understand the difference but I think it's going to be about 50/50. Also, all last week the weather was bright and sunny, 24°C with a nice cool breeze. Today it's raining. Tomorrow it's raining. I've been waiting 2 months to go running outside and it's raining. I will run in the rain. Make no mistake. I played oboe and worked on my novel yesterday. I'm feeling, snarky, angry, mean, negative today. In fact, now that I think of it, I felt that way yesterday afternoon too. My stomach hurts and um- I've been to the toilet several times this morning. It's calming down now. Perhaps some meditation and yoga would help me reset my mind a bit. |
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I think it's awesome that you're using that negative experience to get creative. It's hard not to just wallow when those things happen. I use a paper journal for most of my actual coping process too, but I do share bits and pieces on WDC as well.
Might try a short story a day instead. Stay safe. 
