From now, I’ll be exhausted. Yet I will not feel it.

I’ll be in Paris. Suffused and exhilarated. Wanting immediately, to go everywhere and see everything.

I try to think, what to do first? How to best contain myself while still appearing somewhat normal? What thing to first see?!

Right now it’s between the bagel shop on Rue Notre Dame des Champs {should I be that hungry, which I prob will be}, from there head to the Luxembourg Gardens to eat — then Saint Sulpice to pray and feel all holy and good.

From Saint Sulpice take Rue de Rennes all the way to the Saint Germain des près church – more prayer and holiness. I’m totally going to be channeling his Holiness, the Dali Lama. See. Peeps, you can just call me, her Holiness.

Then I’m pretty sure I’ll hit up my fave creperie stand right outside Saint Germain church and across from Les Deux Magots, consume my 50000 Nutella calories as I walk along, anticipating the moment my eyes first spot the Seine.

I can hardly contain myself, People! Is that the second time I’ve said that? See — proves my inability to handle the containment. Oh the beauty and the wonder. The return of me to my home. Higher Self can hardly handle it, too.

Now. If only Higher Selves could do taxes for us. And print out all necessary docs to assemble in a folder for TC. He threw a tantrum last night and told me he refuses to get in the car to go to the airport without all necessary documents in order and organized.

And The BF thinks I can take things a bit far. I should remind him about TC and then he’ll immediately be thankful he only has to deal with me. Well kinda deal with me. Because TC likes to pop up announced all the damn time.

I usually overlook this, because he comes with food … and I can’t really say anything now can I when he’s going to feed us? What’s that saying — don’t bite the hand that feeds you? Or something like that.

In my case it’s a literal thing.

TC is also having me plan some day trips. Normandie. Where I know I’m totally going to lose it about Gpa. Chartes and I have suggested Reims. For the crowning of the kings.

Not really. I just sound smart saying that and it sounds a hell of a lot better than just for champagne.  Who needs kings when you have champagne? Like thousands of barrels of fresh champs at your disposal. I just got chills thinking about Veuve Clicquot.

Me, TC and France. This is going to be an unforgettable two weeks. Hold onto your seats, peeps. It might get a little rocky but it’s bound to be interesting. That much is a guarantee.