I think this week’s cool temperatures have chilled my love and infatuation a bit. I can’t shake this exhaustion and I’m frustrated by my lack of energy. I’ve been feeling really alone—at work, without a boss; socially; and as foreigner. Paris is a beautiful city, but, still, it’s a foreign city. And I am an outsider.
But sometimes little things go a long way toward cheering you.
Since the very first day at Ogilvy, what has been the bane of my existence? No, not the absence of a creative director (that came four months in). Not the juggling of eight projects at any given time (no, no, cannot, will not, become bitter). Not working late every night and missing the opening hours of everything in the city, from the produce market to gift boutiques (no wonder Saturday unofficially shopping day). Nope, it’s been that nasty roll of cloth towels in the bathroom. And this morning, well, I walked in and was shocked and delighted to see it gone. Welcome to the new millennium, folks! We have disposable paper towels!
I know it’s worse for the environment, but I will gladly print double-sided, forgo color copies and say no to plastic bags and water bottles if it means I never have to touch one of those contraptions again. I guess la grippe finally scared some hygienic sense into everyone.