I’m packing to go back to Paris to pack.

Our Roma stint is coming to an end; here I am on my knees, packing again. The sky changes drastically from day to day. Yesterday I was downtown in shorts and a sandals, and today it’s raining and gray. There seems to be no consistency to this year’s weather; well, when has weather been consistent anyway?

I’m really looking forward to being back in Paris, never mind that the weather still isn’t anywhere near the 20s. I don’t care. I cannot wait to be back home, to smell that familiar smell of the entry hallway, to reread my books. I can finally hang out with Lila at the park next to our place and hopefully have a chat with some of the people in our neighborhood. I can’t wait to meet up with friends. And to eat a proper baguette again.

So, we’re going back to Paris, only to leave it again.

It’s always a funny thing, all this coming and going in life.

Currently listening to:
Beck
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