So I have this wonderful, brave friend who is living her dream. She’s in France, speaking French all the time, eating things that sound French even if they aren’t just because she is in France, and she does these things that you can apparently do in France much more easily than here. Here is a FB post I just read:
“You know what? I’m not going to work today. I slept in until 9am, translated a French poem, watched the last sad bit of the reign of Henry VIII, and made a celery root/potato mash with garlic and olive oil and topped it with sauteed lemon chicken breast for lunch. It’s a nice(ish) afternoon, and I think I’m going to spend it walking around the lake before I go to the Haydn motet concert at a local church at 5pm.”
Let us contrast this with my day:
“You know what? It’s 10am and I’m in plaid flannel pajamas listening to the dog eat kibble. I overslept so I’m not going to church. I’m going to make coffee, sit here surfing the web and playing World of Warcraft while doing endless loads of laundry, until I cannot stand my own filth and idleness any longer. At that point I will shower and do things that are slightly more worthwhile and meaningful. Chances are good I’ll eat something vile and reprehensible later while starting my online Master’s program. None of it will involve a Haydn motet although I might listen to Christmas music on the soft rock station since nobody’s home to judge me.”
If the children were here it would involve more shouting about turning the TV down and stop hitting your sister, but they’re off at their other households.
Anyway, three of the seven deadly sins right here. YAY ME!
(To be fair, she has no children and has worked very hard to be where she is, and I do not begrudge her one iota of her happy French life.)