It's not good form to complain about living in Paris. BUT.
I have had it up to frickin' here with this lousy weather: gray, cold, damp, windy, spatters of sleet in your face, ominous clouds, the hint of a clearing which always disappears the instant you take note of it. Super cold days with dazzling blue skies? No such thing. I have no doubt that yesterday's prediction by Punxsutawney Phil that there will be six more weeks of winter, while technically not applicable to the European continent, is dead on correct.
And by the way, you never realize how foolish the whole groundhog thing is until you try to explain it in French...to someone from Bulgaria. But I digress.
Had I the opportunity to curl up in my PJs and read books, watch videos, listen to my Ipod, and surf the Internet for the next however long, I would be sorely tempted to do so. However, having children in the house who must be out the door each morning, dressed and fed, before it's even light, it's regrettably not an option. Such is the plight of the mom.
So what am I doing today to combat the weariness and dreariness that is all around me? In a classic case of you can't beat 'em, join 'em or perhaps a show of up yours old man winter, I'm going for a 20 kilometer walk in the countryside. The temperature is not supposed to get much out of the 30s and precipitation is predicted. Oh yes, and the SNCF, which I have to take to get to the starting point west of town, is on strike.
Living in Paris can do some crazy things to your head.