VACATION TIME. My vacation time often turns out to be even more busy than regular work days. Or should be. I can't seem to be able to get started today. My brother will be coming for lunch in less than an hour, and I haven't done any work. I'm catching up with the pressure of monday's sale day. I'm so glad business is not my real job! Or PR. Sometimes, people are so obnoxious, I don't know how one can deal with them everyday, all year long. Last night SJM and I have been pretty iddle - not bored, but we had nothing special going on, and neither of us was satisfied with the situation. I mean, we're in Paris, so there should be plenty for us to do out there. And we're always saying how great it would be if we could live together, and now we're together for a full week, nothing's happening. What's going on? This is depressing me a little bit, especially after reading this terribly empty book, about this guy, a total loner, living in Paris, being alone and doing nothing worth mentioning at all times. Hugh! Scary. I don't like being in the north so much, but what if being in Paris was worse? It didn't used to be that way last year. We had Volley-ball on tuesdays and thursdays, for one thing. SJM gave up going this year, because a few practices were cancelled at the beginning of the year, and he found it boring anyways. Actually, he seems to have a sort of apathy, a tendancy to watch the course of things slide on their own momentum no matter what. But I'm not like that! Or am I? read: Il avait plus tout le dimanche, by Philippe Delerm. and at BFM, (platform of line 14): "Un frisson au bout de ses doigts, près d'une fenêtre un matin d'été", Yuklo Mishima. posted by A. 12:16 PM . . .
