This is the strangest feeling ever; I am back in Paris after all these years.
This brutal change just cut of my creative flow alltogether and I can’t come up with any new twist and turns so I’m stuck with writer’s block and I still haven’t written any more of my novel today. Bad.
I’ve just arrived from the USA an I’ve had a whole bottle of sparkling french wine to soothe my nerves. (I positively hate flying, mostly because a) I always get frowned upon because my cases are overweight and b) I always have to part with my luggage and I hate handing my bag full of lovely Ralph Lauren clothes to a total stranger and trust that he’s going to put it in the right plane and not send it to Oahu or wherever. I always get the chills when I watch the cases coming at the luggage claim; I’m always so afraid that my stuff isn’t going to turn up that I’m a nervous wreck until I see the familiar shape of my dingy orange case. I like it, mind you. I was very tempted last year to blow my savings on a nice vuitton bag but I would have been too anxious that someone would steal it if it was too obvious that it was expensive. whereas my present suitcase is so grotty nobody looks at it twice.
Anyway. I was so exhausted today by that endless flight and terrible in-flight meals,(not to mention the bad movies they played. the exotic marigold hotel was good, but the rest was crap) that I spent my first afternoon back in Paris secluded with my laptop, wine and fromage. It’s worked out quite well actually.
lads I am too tired to write anything else.
I’ll try to get going on my novel, I’ve written half of it already! but I’m so slow! I want it finished nextr month.
stay tuned friends!
Ellie M xx