I’m writing this at my desk at work. P--- and W--- are gathering up all the trashcans and loading them onto a pallet on the forklift to haul out to the dumpster. J--- and K----- were just outside K’s office discussing whether one of their kids whose college closed down should start working at the grocery store ( Read more... )

Sara is still sleeping. I just woke up and am outside, sitting on the balcony, looking out at the beach. My hair is unbrushed and still gross and ratty from the ocean water. There's sleep in my eyes, and I'm still in my pajamas, but nobody can see me up here, and there's hardly anybody out this early, anyway ( Read more... )

I'm writing this in my little classroom, Salle 106. I don't have a class right now (obviously), so it's nice and quiet and empty. Well, not entirely quiet, since Marie-France is doing a class right next door, and I can hear her loud voice through the wall. I don't hate Mondays because they're the start of another week. I hate them because they're ( Read more... )

So I never did write more after I got back to the lycee on Tuesday. I really haven't been writing in this journal as often as I mean to. Note to self: Must resolve to do better ( Read more... )

I'm sitting here on the side of the road, just down the street from the Chateau de Noue, around the corner from the lycee. The lycee is already on the edge of town, so if you walk much further past it, you're really in the countryside. I've only seen two people since I've been walking out here, and I left the lycee almost an hour ago. I did one ( Read more... )

I'm sitting here on the side of the wide path through the forest that leads from the chateau to the radio tower. I had wanted to try to walk the whole way, but the radio tower is much further than it looks. I didn't want to walk the whole way there, but I wasn't ready to turn around and go back yet, so I decided to sit down and write. I left the ( Read more... )

I'm sitting here wedged in a corner in St Pancras Station. Benches in this station are scarce - but not as scarce as trash cans! I wandered all over the second floor looking for one before I finally gave up, and I had to chew my gum long after it lost its flavor. (I ended up wrapping it in paper torn from The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle and ( Read more... )