Waiting for the move to sink in and for the money to tick into my account and take away my debt and sleepless nights, I’m trying to go back to things that used to make me happy, back when I had time and energy to think about that.
So I’ve been cooking a lot lately. The general staff holiday is not over yet, meaning I’ve been easing my way into work and still had a couple of hours left here and there, unpacking and putting things in order and making plans for dinner.
I took a week off (meaning I decided to say no to potential assignments) in order to move out of my apartment at my own pace. It’s going ok, but not any faster than I feared. On the contrary, it feels like keeping all this junk for so many years is a seldom display of scornfulness against oneself. I found 3 laptops from another era, my parents’ entire harvest of hazelnuts back from 2013 or something, all my curriculum compendiums from who knows when and lots of bits and bobs from when I was a poor student.
As I was telling you a couple of days ago, we combine eating out with cooking our own food, even on holidays. I’ve always preferred renting a place that at least allows me to make my own coffee and putting together a couple of easy dishes for lunch, every now and then and Montpellier was no exception.
Ever since I set my foot in Rhodes, in 2006, I instantly fell in love with the Mediterranean way of life. Although you may think a southern French town like Montpellier has little in common with a sleepy Greek island, I beg to differ. It’s the way of enjoying life, in small portions, be it on the beach, at the local coffee shop or taverna, in one’s own garden or in the streets. I simply love Southern Europe and think I was born to live in one of its countries. How I ended up in Norway is a mystery to me and how I never seem to be able to do anything about it makes me really sad. But what can I do? Move to Greece and turn into a street vendor? No, thanks. I’d rather have a real job and live for the holidays, as sad as that might sound.
As you probably know, I’m all for the French chic and I love simple, elegant and comfy wear, with a touch of everyday luxury. This are my summer essentials:
After spending a whole day at F’s aunt eating “lunch”, we went for a glass in the old town, thinking we’d book a table for dinner later on. It was still hot, though not suffocating any more and since we’d driven for halv an hour in a car without air condition, my dress and his t-shirt were soaked with sweat. Happy to find some shade, we ordered a glass of rosé and people watched for a couple of hours.
The days go by slowly, filled with small incidents and petty errands. In the evening, our heads are full of plans and the day after holds the promise of never-ending adventures, but the morning sees them all crumbling down, like a house of cards, due to the heat. I’m so lazy I could beat a cat in a idleness contest. I’m so lazy I could probably purr, I just haven’t tried it yet.
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