So, yeah, that was a long silence. Sorry.
I spent most of December feeling kind of worn out anyway – trying to prepare for Christmas, trying to catch up on sleep, trying to just keep my head above water. Nothing bad is going on, really; just a bit of a mismatch in my day job, I think, which I’m already trying to do something about. I come home too tired on a mental level, and that’s not the kind of life I want.
But then, speaking of coming home…
I’ve just returned from a week in Paris, my first trip there ever. And thank god, while I was there it felt like something sort of re-set for me and I’m a bit more inclined to write more frequently. I wrote in my travel journal every day, and I also forgave myself for the days that I wanted just to go back to the Airbnb early and have a picnic dinner there rather than trying to hit up a restaurant.
But I’m back home now – I wisely came home on Saturday, allowing Sunday as a re-adjustment day before jumping straight into work. I got in about 4 in the afternoon yesterday, but only stayed awake for another four hours as I was still on French time. I woke up at about 2, but managed to get back to sleep again for a bit – but now it’s about 6:45 and I know I won’t be able to stay asleep any longer. And I managed to mess up the apartment tremendously in only four hours – I’d brought home some chocolate, but somehow it had migrated to the bottom of my bag and I “unpacked” to look for it by just tossing things aside, and so right now it looks like Paris threw up in my living room.
But I’ve got the whole day to put that to rights, and generally settle back in home. Send the laundry out, and give the fridge a good clean. Find a place for all the funky little treasures I got – the bouquet garnis and the ras al hanout from that funky spice shop, the box of super-sized sugar cubes that the guy in a shop near my flat upsold me on so charmingly, the fancy herb scissors that I asked about in French (“Pardonez-moi, m’seur – c’est ci pour couper des herbes?”) – and send out gifts I got for friends (the fautas from a tiny shop in the Marais which will be perfect for a friend who uses a lot of tea towels, the t-shirts for my niece and nephew).
There also must be a food reckoning; the fridge is half empty, and some of the things in it aren’t in good shape. I’m going to have to go out to a market at some point. And if some French cheese happens to make its way into my basket….well.