I was never much of a cloud-watcher as a child, chances were that if I were lying still in the grass then there was a book hiding my face from the world, the skies painted in my mind so much more brilliant than the everyday blue that I only learned to be that particular shade of cerulean from some novel when I was eleven-and-nearly-grownup.
Countless children's poems about the shapes in the clouds were lost on me, at least until years later when my blood became filled with illicit things and suddenly the clouds and skies began to compete with the brilliant scenes of my childhood brainpan.
This morning, staring out the window as the other Nicolas finished his smoke and his cocaine-enhanced ranting about this or that thing he needs me to do before I leave, the clouds were of sudden sober interest.
Dark. Black. Thick. Tubular rows completely obscuring a parisian sky which seemed to exist without colour, only cloudcover.
An hour later my boss at the parent company is ringing to ask for the CV modifications that I'd worked on over the weekend, things are moving quickly.
Halfway through my re-read on the eight million little things I'd jotted down, and one of my "peers" here is asking me over for that conversation that I'd been begging for in December.
We loved working with you, he said. Your technical strength is very impressive to us, he said. We take full responsibility of the lack of communications during your projects, he said.
I pointed out that maybe my corporate maturity makes my take on project management a little more technical, and my own inability to chase down people despite their Do-Not-Disturb signs needs working on.
We both walked out of the conversation happy, and with unexpected offers on their part to hunt me down if they ever end up doing anything more technical.
He gave me advice on my next interviews, on which strengths they see very clearly from my work.
He marvelled at my continual obsession with math beyond high school, where he lost it and went straight for the high-level APIs.
Looking out the window now, I suddenly see sky and everything is soaring. The clouds somehow snuck away towards Rennes or Turin or some other too-sunny place during the meeting of minds, and today the sky is a shade I haven't seen since summer.
Tonight, session technique � PLace D'Italie since the ground will be dry and even warm by then.
And if I make it down a few hills without my brakes, who knows. Maybe I'll take them off today.
Maybe.