What a Crêpe

This day has been the culmination of the last 5 years of my life.

I did absolutely nothing.

Literally. I woke up feeling pretty not-so-hot and crumby, and a bit emotionally fritzed, so I ended up sanitizing my bathroom and cleaning my entire apartment. And anyone who has lived with me for a substantial period of time should be able to tell you what that means.

But I did have a really crazy dream last night. Something about this person I was in a marketing class group with last semester coming to my Boston house and seducing me and then him morphing into several other people all the while. And something else about playing with childhood toys in Buffalo with my childhood pal, Beth?

I went to my one class of the day, which I was in a bumbling daze for the entire time.
And I went home as soon as it finished, which is now. I grabbed a crêpe on the way home. And let me tell you, it was meticulous. Which means it was very good. But I won't lie; messy and gooey crêpes have their place, too. This guy might have been obsessive compulsive, crêpe-style.

I might be going out with a bunch of Scandinavians for dinner (gorge, I say! GORGE!). Or Pierre and his friend from Toulousse might swing on by. I don't know.
Otherwise, I have no real means of communication to my friends in Paris, and I'm just going to coagulate in my own private blob here in the 15ème of Paris.