And that is, yes, French, and my city, and going back eventually. Right now I’m eating a breakfast sandwich on a croissant, I think from Costco. Rather tasty, if you want to know the truth. But I want Paris, my streets and sounds and musique, la belle musique that surrounds me when I stroll, when Alice and I went for our mochas. So on the drive to Arista.. French. And not just the accordion-driven songs, but the words, the language, what draws me that romance.
Tomorrow’s plan: wake 4:30, run for an hour, home then write. Then coffee (I will buy some on the drive home today), then to work to French, music and maybe one of those podcasts I found. There’s a certain me I wheel to be. And I’m almost there. I will have my children have a father that’s multidimensional, confident, and never of lowered reflux. I know what I’m doing, finally.. en fin! Je me sens merveilleusement bien!