Two appartments to look at this afternoon, I'm taking the afternoon off work.
The prices are worrisome but hey, being short on money isn't the biggest crisis in the world if I've got a fully-furnished place to sleep.
The little boy was screaming this morning, but the news of the ceasefire in Israel drowned out his heartbreaking cries.
Happy New year out there, I imagine the synagogues are fuller than usual this year but I still won't be going. Didn't reach my family out here in time for New Year's dinner at their place last night, and I can't say I'm feeling particularly anxious to be hearing hebrew prayers again.
It'll be ten years soon that I left synagogues with their flashing diamond-encrusted zombie women and old-spiced men behind.
Two appartments this afternoon, maybe this time when I arrive it won't be to the news that "sorry, they've already been rented".
Originally, it was three appartments this afternoon and two tomorrow, but we're down to the two today.
This city is a different kind of insane from others I've met, but I know by now that insanity doesn't have to be catching.
I am dreaming of picnics on Mount-Royal in Montreal, dreaming of Santropol sandwiches and the drunken laughter of the ski team.
I have also dreamed of 512 bit encryption and redesigned session management for the Kyriba system.
I am dreaming of les Invalides, Napolean's tomb, the world's biggest market up near where those appartments are this afternoon, I am dreaming of streets that seem to wide to be french and can only be that particular brand of concrete that is Parisian.
Coffee and fresh mayonnaise and tomatoes that taste like cherries.
The gendarmes in the metro this morning were warning of a disturbance in Neuilly.
The rollercoaster hasn't stopped its mad dash through my ricketty hormones yet, but I am forever hopeful.
Stupid, sometimes, optimism, and yet I am hopeful still.
My own brand of insanity that stands outside the sudden quaintness of Montreal and the hectic rush of Paris.