So, first things first: I'm probably not going back to Paris for the end of this week, and honestly?
What a fucking relief.
Yeah yeah, Oh poor Chris being sent to Paris, bla bla. All's I can say is that I'm so many kinds of done living out of a suitcase. I miss my apartment and my kitty and my friends and my city, (hey! Rhyming!) and I really fucking want to be home. Even if home is like a hundred and ten degrees. So as it stands now, I'm due home just before midnight on Friday. Fuck the fucking fuck yes. As Zack says, "What a life, to turn your nose up at Paris," but you know. There's no place like, &etc.
In other news, the rain has kicked back up here over the last week. Apparently they opened the sluices of a nearby dam, which flooded a few rivers and covered up a bridge or two. Now, I don't mean to be critical, right? I don't want to be that traveler who spends his time going, "Oh, but that's not how to do things properly, not like we do back home." But honestly? If you live in an area that you know is going to receive a certain amount of rain every year -- indeed, it has an entire season known as the rainy season, which to me implies a pretty hefty amount of the wet stuff -- if you know this, right? Wouldn't you think that you'd spend a certain amount of time and energy creating roads that are not water-soluble? I swear to god, the only thing left are mud-filled holes, and piles of loose gravel. By the time I get to the office, I feel like a bad martini - overly shaken on the rocks, and none too dry.
And yes, before you ask, I did spend all morning thinking that one up.