Well, let’s say run.
Sleigh Bells’ “Comeback Kid” rings on my phone at 6h45…tap the snooze button on my Droid…6h50….snooze….6h55…snooze…..7h35: “Zut alors!!”
Madame has a rule there are no showers before 7am, none past 10am. Breakfast is the same.
I hop out of bed, “To shower or eat first?”
Bother with contacts this morning or wear glasses even if they don’t match my outfit?
And whyyyy did I press the snooze button so many times? I could have prevented this stress.
Breakfast first. Then I’ll cross that bridge.
Two tartines, s’il vous plait, complete with butter and blueberry preserves. Gosh this butter here is difficult to scrape. But man it’s yummy.
Turn on the coffee machine. The coffee here might as well be a big pot of espresso, it’s pitch black. I can only tolerate 1/4 cup.
Homemade yaourt (yogurt) is in the fridge, Madame likes when we eat it every morning. Pour that into my bowl, with some chopped bananas, sip my coffee….zut… it’s already 8h00!
Clean the dishes, turn off the coffee, off to the shower!
Ugh, it’s difficult to get used to turning off the water for “laver” shampoo, soap.
It’s 8h15 and now I have only 15 minutes to get ready.
Skirt, can’t bother to put on pants today, the weather’s always changing so who knows when it’ll be hot again.
Contacts– please don’t give me trouble today– SCORE. The lotion I just put on my face didn’t come into contact with them, they won’t burn my eyes.
Shirt, mascara, earrings today–oh la la so fancy. Grab my keys, bag, slip on shoes that I can run in…
And we’re off– it’s 8h36, I’ve got my green North Face backpack on, filled with books about European Art and literature, history, and some organic rice cakes. I live about 40 minutes from my school. Time to go back to Cross Country days….
It’s all uphill from here, literally, not figuratively. Run past two guys at the gas station, smoking. Past the Aix-en-Bus… wow, I wish I got that pass now, every morning it drives past me, what a temptation. But, the exercise is good for me, this is why I don’t have to worry about eating so much bread, and the occaisional chocolat.
I walk rapidly past the “cool kid” hill, surrounded by french hipster high school students, they all know by now I’m American, I can see it in their eyes. Dodging the ashes from their cigarettes, I walk on, not making eye contact. They say “Excusez-moi, avez vous une feuille de papier?” Yeah right, like they want a piece of paper…. Au revoir frenchies!
Whenever a car passes, I stop running and walk as if to look normal, when they leave– sprint!!! That’s my rule anyways.
My hair has gotten significantly longer, and it’s so difficult to run with it on my back, especially since I didn’t have time to dry it this morning. Now I’m on one of the busy streets. The french men are all sitting outside at their favorite cafes and pubs, smoking with espresso on their tables, french women walking by with their fashionable clothes and petit chiens. I stick out like a sore thumb. Super adorable french guy walks past, slowly, chill, not late or anything. And if he was he probably wouldn’t run anyway, we’re in Europe afterall. Look at my watch, it’s 8h47… omggg.
Down the main street, markets are open, people buying handbags and shoes, tourists, presumably from America and Australia, taking pictures and being led by a french tourguide with a funny accent speaking in English. “Zees are very famouse ‘eer, calissons, by ze keeng Roi Rene”….
Oh, man that’s a cute sweater– I need to come back here soon, wait– sweater, or food in Barcelona this weekend?
…..Ugh, run Trish run!
Accordian player on my right, dog on my left…..
It’s time for the shop owners to spray the streets….Water water everywhere!
Dodge multiple cars in the street. Yes, now we’re in business. The cathedral is in sight. The markets to my right, people dance in the streets, more tours pass by me, mainly old fancy looking people who attend. Sprinting, sprinting. Ah yes, my American friend I met in the telephone store the other day… “Bonjour Kate! Yes, I am running late for school… have a good day at work…!”
Pass the Institute for political students, run down the road, type in the code for IAU, walk into my Art History class. Alas, it’s exactly 8h59 and I made it with a minute to spare.
“Good morning class, let’s talk about Poussin…..”
Sleigh Bells’ “Comeback Kid” rings on my phone at 6h45…tap the snooze button on my Droid…6h50….snooze….6h55…snooze…..7h35: “Zut alors!!”
Madame has a rule there are no showers before 7am, none past 10am. Breakfast is the same.
I hop out of bed, “To shower or eat first?”
Bother with contacts this morning or wear glasses even if they don’t match my outfit?
And whyyyy did I press the snooze button so many times? I could have prevented this stress.
Breakfast first. Then I’ll cross that bridge.
Two tartines, s’il vous plait, complete with butter and blueberry preserves. Gosh this butter here is difficult to scrape. But man it’s yummy.
Turn on the coffee machine. The coffee here might as well be a big pot of espresso, it’s pitch black. I can only tolerate 1/4 cup.
Homemade yaourt (yogurt) is in the fridge, Madame likes when we eat it every morning. Pour that into my bowl, with some chopped bananas, sip my coffee….zut… it’s already 8h00!
Clean the dishes, turn off the coffee, off to the shower!
Ugh, it’s difficult to get used to turning off the water for “laver” shampoo, soap.
It’s 8h15 and now I have only 15 minutes to get ready.
Skirt, can’t bother to put on pants today, the weather’s always changing so who knows when it’ll be hot again.
Contacts– please don’t give me trouble today– SCORE. The lotion I just put on my face didn’t come into contact with them, they won’t burn my eyes.
Shirt, mascara, earrings today–oh la la so fancy. Grab my keys, bag, slip on shoes that I can run in…
And we’re off– it’s 8h36, I’ve got my green North Face backpack on, filled with books about European Art and literature, history, and some organic rice cakes. I live about 40 minutes from my school. Time to go back to Cross Country days….
It’s all uphill from here, literally, not figuratively. Run past two guys at the gas station, smoking. Past the Aix-en-Bus… wow, I wish I got that pass now, every morning it drives past me, what a temptation. But, the exercise is good for me, this is why I don’t have to worry about eating so much bread, and the occaisional chocolat.
I walk rapidly past the “cool kid” hill, surrounded by french hipster high school students, they all know by now I’m American, I can see it in their eyes. Dodging the ashes from their cigarettes, I walk on, not making eye contact. They say “Excusez-moi, avez vous une feuille de papier?” Yeah right, like they want a piece of paper…. Au revoir frenchies!
Whenever a car passes, I stop running and walk as if to look normal, when they leave– sprint!!! That’s my rule anyways.
My hair has gotten significantly longer, and it’s so difficult to run with it on my back, especially since I didn’t have time to dry it this morning. Now I’m on one of the busy streets. The french men are all sitting outside at their favorite cafes and pubs, smoking with espresso on their tables, french women walking by with their fashionable clothes and petit chiens. I stick out like a sore thumb. Super adorable french guy walks past, slowly, chill, not late or anything. And if he was he probably wouldn’t run anyway, we’re in Europe afterall. Look at my watch, it’s 8h47… omggg.
Down the main street, markets are open, people buying handbags and shoes, tourists, presumably from America and Australia, taking pictures and being led by a french tourguide with a funny accent speaking in English. “Zees are very famouse ‘eer, calissons, by ze keeng Roi Rene”….
Oh, man that’s a cute sweater– I need to come back here soon, wait– sweater, or food in Barcelona this weekend?
…..Ugh, run Trish run!
Accordian player on my right, dog on my left…..
It’s time for the shop owners to spray the streets….Water water everywhere!
Dodge multiple cars in the street. Yes, now we’re in business. The cathedral is in sight. The markets to my right, people dance in the streets, more tours pass by me, mainly old fancy looking people who attend. Sprinting, sprinting. Ah yes, my American friend I met in the telephone store the other day… “Bonjour Kate! Yes, I am running late for school… have a good day at work…!”
Pass the Institute for political students, run down the road, type in the code for IAU, walk into my Art History class. Alas, it’s exactly 8h59 and I made it with a minute to spare.
“Good morning class, let’s talk about Poussin…..”