Fly in the ointment

I do this thing right at the very start of every trip where I second guess the whole thing. For a short while, I just know that the whole idea was not a good one and I should have just stayed home where things are familiar - my city, my friends, my routine, my bed. What usually gets me out of this rut is whoever I'm traveling with telling me to buck up and get it together.

Houston, we have a problem. There isn't anyone else here to tell me to suck it up and go out. There is nobody to coax me into a new outfit and out the door, where I'm sure I will remember all the reasons that make this such a great idea.

My flight was a very pleasant one, despite the fact that I was in the middle row. I sat next to a very kind couple (Evangel and Carmi) and they were a treat to talk to. The food was decent, the movie selection was varied, and despite the lack of window or friend's shoulder I got about 3-4 hours of sleep. It certainly didn't feel nine hours long!

Carmi, Evangel, and I all caught the train from the airport to downtown Paris together and fate also allowed that they needed to catch the same metro line as myself, so we did that together too. Then I said goodbye, got off at my stop, headed up into the daylight to text my host so she could come get me from the station and ... failed to send. No worries. Try again. Failed to send. Craaappp. I tried several variations/additions, muttered curses at the phone company who told me this would be just fine, waved off the young guy trying to be "helpful" and made my way into a coffee shop where the nice man called my host and told her where I was. Thank goodness there are kind people in this world.

Anne came and picked me up and brought me the two blocks back to her place, which is adorable. She is obviously an incredibly kind person, and has helped me with a map, given me some suggestions, let me take a nap (my run-of-nights, two-days-of-a-semi-normal-schedule, eight-hour-time-changed body is very confused), and now I'm trying to convince myself to go out. I know (part of me does, anyhow) that once I get out of here and start seeing Paris I'll remember why I came; why I decided that "nobody had the same vacation time as me" wasn't a good enough excuse not to travel.

I know I need to just do it - get up off this bed, grab my jacket (I think it's warmer in Edmonton today .. boo!) and go see something that makes my jaw drop. I'm thinking Notre Dame. Maybe that's just what the doctor ordered.