I think I’m back from the dead.
I left work early yesterday (if you consider 5 o’clock early) and came home and crashed on the couch for an hour and a half. It was the perfect recharge before going out and meeting Melissa, and then coming home and enjoying nearly nine hours of sleep. I slept until 10 a.m., people! And then I went to the gym! And ate a peach for breakfast! And the sun is tentatively coming out! Ah, it feels good to be alive.
I’m feeling recharged, too, from reconnecting with my friends here—my Parisian family. I had lunch with Jo the other day, and we’re going to shake our tails at Rosa Bonheur again next week. I hung out and had fancy cocktails, Chinese take-out and great conversation with Michael the other night. And last night, I had over three hours of non-stop catching up with Mel—and we didn’t nearly touch everything we have to catch up on. (I am so excited for and proud of you, Mel!)
But there is such a jumble of emotions. I’ve also had a flurry of emails from my dearest, bestest friends back home, whom I would be lost without. As much as I’ve been bitching about how NYC was exhausting (trust me, I know I sounded obnoxious), it was so fulfilling and reassuring to spend quality time with the people who know me best and love me for who I am. There is nothing like it in the world: that feeling of being understood. Of being able to spend time with someone and if there’s a pause in the conversation, it doesn’t matter—you’re still on the same page. Of smiling at each other like secret lovers, when you’re only smiling because you’re so happy to be together. I am so, so lucky to have the friends that I do, and I love and miss you all already.
Let’s make a pack to stay in good, close touch. To visit every time we can. To continue supporting and understanding one another. And for making the time to be there, if not physically, then always emotionally and at least via email (crazy world we live in).
For now, I’m going to hop on a Velib and soak up Paris.