You may remember the children's book about Alexander, the poor little chap who had a rotten day. The excerpt below reminds me of my day today.
"I went to sleep with gum in my mouth and now it's in my hair and when I got out of bed this morning I tripped on my skateboard and by mistake I dropped my sweater in the sink while the water was running and I could tell it was going to be a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day."
There are some days that obviously would have been better if I'd stayed in bed, especially the bed in my new top floor apartment, the bed with the fluffy down comforter and pillows, from where I can lay down and look through the terrace doors and see all of Paris straight to the Basilica of Sacre Coeur, which sits atop Montmartre, its white marble glowing, a beacon in the Paris night sky, calling, drawing me in.
At the rate my morning has gone so far, staying in bed completely immobile and staring aimlessly outdoors would have been far more productive and worthwhile. As far as I'm concerned, today has been a complete and utter waste of time, full of nothing but one frustration after another. The frustrations have piled up all the way to my eyeballs where they threaten to escape in a torrent of tears.
The morning started off with me oversleeping 45 minutes. The cold water in the shower didn't work, so I emerged, skin scalded and red. I burnt my skirt with the stupid iron and had to wear a different skirt to work. I shouldn't have worn a skirt at all seeing as how a cold front had moved into the city. I proceeded to discover that I had lost my metro pass somewhere. Arriving at the metro station, to my heart's delight, I discovered that not only were the ATM's rejecting my American Express, but the conductors on the train I needed to take to work had decided to go on strike. Now, 3 hours later, I have walked the entire length of the Paris underground system, and thanks to the misinformed people at the info booth, I have taken 7 different trains, none of which have led to my destination. I am beyond late to work, and I haven't had any coffee (or breakfast for that matter), and it is almost noon. If the old lady sitting across from me on the train gives me the evil eye one more time, I might very well turn into a raving lunatic. I probably should have just walked straight to work - it couldn't have taken me more time than has already sifted through my hands, never again to be retrieved. Now I just have to figure out how to tell my boss that I decided to take the morning off to discover the Parisian train network. Forget real sightseeing - it's overrated!
The rest of the day has been thankfully, decidedly uneventful and actually managed to improve, with my evening ending at the undeniably impressive Musee d'Orsay. By no means gifted in anything related to art, I nonetheless found myself awed by the pieces in front of my eyes. The Monets and VanGoghs I'd only previously seen in art history books were there before me in full display. While I was familiar with Monet's most famous works, I had no idea he had painted such a beautiful still-life of a big hunk of raw beef (apparently, this work doesn't make it on the Monet tour of most cities nor is it covered in most art history books). And then Degas - it was obvious he had a fascination with bathing women and ballerinas. The latter, if I may offer my humble opinion, were rather frightening, the faces of the dancers looking like they had danced their way straight out of a Halloween movie and were going to hang out with Chuckie after their dance class.
My favorite, though, was a series of 4 paintings of the cathedral at Rennes, masterfully crafted under the hands of Monet. He perfectly captured the pink hued reflection of the early sunrise and the dark shadows that fell across it at dusk. As I nonchalantly listened in on a group tour viewing the cathedral series, I learned that it was often used in philosophical discussion of time, the main premise being that the same scene viewed from a different time is indeed a completely different scene. Time, then, appears to be the essential factor in seeing whatever situation you're in from a different point of view. Too bad this philosophy didn't apply to my day. No amount of time could have made me see my morning as anything but horrible, awful and good for nothing!