I’ve gone between the phone and the laptop in the blogging and trying to lock in on a rhythm with which to do this. Jet Lag plays a roll. So much so that I am struggling to get this blog out as I lay in bed in the lull before I go out again. Once I muster up the energy to hit the club on a Monday night, I will not have anything left to write with. So here we are.
I’m downing powerberries like their senso beans trying to fight through the strange hours. What bugs is that by the time we’ve gotten this right we will want to go to sleep at the odd time in order to sleep through a significant chunk of the flight home. Nobody wants to be up for 12hrs trapped in a plane.
But until then I need to find the juice to enjoy the stay the way I want to.
Some Thoughts:
- We have American neighbors at the hotel. They suck. The most engaging non-locals we met were Greek. The Americans have generally been stand offish and in their own reality. Now they’re listening to what between the walls sounds to be a Whitney Houston documentary. Ahh, Paris.