Hey. You. Guys. I was feeling really shitty this morning, wishing I could just have booked my ticket home sooner and only had to think about what to watch next on On Demand and what cream cheese to put on my bagel, etc (Its a very healthy lifestyle that I lead chez Capewell). I was worried, as always, about choices I had made, worried I will never please everyone, worried I don’t give enough, worried people didn’t miss me — in general, thoughts that seem undeniable when I’m thinking them and silly in retrospect. This is a dangerous path of thinking (especially when you’re drunk. Especially when a hammock is in your way. Not that I speak from experience) and I was tempted to pull covers over myself until my flight was being called at Charles de Gaulle.
So: feeling sorry for myself. Missing home. Luckily I got my ass off the computer and into the
gray great Normandy outdoors. And I taught another lesson about Christmas words, singing We Wish You a Merry Christmas for maybe the thousandth time this week — no exaggeration — and doing a little crossword with my CE2 (3rd grade) bids. At the end, the teacher had them sing a song in French that they would be performing tomorrow during Chorus: “L’Hiver est tout blanc” (Winter is all white). Which was so sweet, and cute, and I loved it. At the end, they presented me with the gift you see above — a homemade hedgehog card holder (!!!!!), which is the most amazing thing I’ve ever gotten, ever.
So you people out there with fulfilling relationships, PhDs, suites at the Plaza — whatever, dudes. I can keep my ticket stubs in an animal made out of an old French book. Top that. And happy holidays.