After last night's turn of events, I slept in until 1pm from emotional exhaustion. Not knowing how to pass this Sunday that would be otherwise spent going to the gym and enjoying the first sunny day in Paris in over a week, I spent a good portion of it absently watching French news and flipping around for something good. Not even the overstimulating Charlie's Angels 2: Full Throttle would capture my attention and break me out of my funk. I was in for the long haul today.
Once 3pm hit, food needed to be consumed and not having anything in the house, I walked around the corner to the old man brasserie Le Saint Gervais for an omelette and a glass of côtes du rhône with the book that I have been torturing myself to finish for the past month. Why I don't just stop reading it is beyond me, but perhaps like most things in my life, I had so much hope for it that I am forcing it to work when its time to throw in the towel.
I came home well-fed and relaxed from the wine to found an e-mail waiting for me from my cousin. He wanted to know what my plans were for coming home and if I would be interested in taking his time share for a week in The Bahamas. He had booked it a year ago but since him and his fiancée are busy with their upcoming wedding they wouldn't be able to go and it would just go to waste. A week alone in The Bahamas, on the beach. Tempting. After hearing my neighbor blasting the heartbreaking album of Holly Golightly in its entirety, I gave up finding reasons why not to go and could replace songs of lost love with some vacation reggae. A little detour to a tropical island never hurt anyone and besides everyone looks happier with a tan. And my shitty book is not invited.
Le Saint Gervais
96, rue Vieille du Temple
75004 Paris
