Last Sunday I went to a birthday picnic, in woodsy canyon area. A very summery event, indeed, complete with grilling, cocktails in mason jars, chips, dips, and coolers of ice. I wore a light summer dress, it was a good time.
Aaand…I’m ready for summer to be over. Come fall, come crisp air and flaming leaves and soft layers and new expectations.
I lost toutes mes affaires yesterday. My school book and workbook. All of the beautiful notes that I’ve been meticulously copying and re-writing (the subjunctive, en and y, future anterior, etc.). All of my writing assignments, marked and corrected. All the little texts we’ve read in class. Everything. Tout.
And friends, I was disheartened, to say the least. I went out to preview the sales (les soldes, which start tomorrow) and at some point realized that I still had my purse, and my jacket, and my lunch sack, but not my binder with all my school stuff. I went back to all of the shops where I’d stopped–Carrefour, the patisserie, H&M–but they’d seen rien. Nothing.
And then of course I had a class starting RIGHT THEN, to which I was late, and without anything to write on save my pocket notebook, and on the verge of tears, thinking “What’s the point? Why even bother taking notes now, when they’ll be so horribly incomplete?” And thinking, “Why does this happen to me–why do I always have to be the fuck-up, and do things out of order, and make a big mess of everything?” And feeling guilty, since I lost invaluable intellectual property while out oggling material goods.
But I didn’t cry, friends. Almost, but no. I went home, took a short nap, went out for a run. Ate dinner with the family. I mean, it could be so much worse (I consoled myself). I still have my passport, my wallet. My camera. I had been wondering whether or not to take all that school stuff back with me, anyways, if it would be even worth it. So that’s a decision that’s been made for me.
It’s easy, I think, to be happy when things are going well. Easier to have a sunny outlook when the sun is shining. And this was a definite threat to my happiness, my stability, even my worldview (I’m moody and dramatic, what can I say?). But it didn’t get the best of me. I got over it, like I knew I would. And that, friends, is a new thing for me–knowing that the worst will pass.
And later: Café des Langues.
Drinking cider and speaking French. And Spanish. And English.
Letting it go. Enjoying myself.
little sarah Big World 