The hardest thing to do after a break up is to get used to being alone. It makes one very lonely to be in a place so unlike home that the absence of the familiar can be crippling. The other thing is trying to get used to oneself. Before, even though the relationship was not superb, knowing someone was there was a kind of comfort. My son and my ex are no longer around me and suddenly I feel like an insecure teenager again. It's tough in a country with 15% unemployment to be really alone and feel like there is no one special person there for you. At the age of 37 it gets tougher.
The Monaco grand prix and the film festival of Cannes have come and gone and apart from hearing the engines revving at a distance, and going down to stand on lowes hairpin I had no contact whatsoever with these world famous events. Like many people here, there are less than distractions, something for the tourists.
Both events hearald the great invasion of pasty white whales that lie beached all day hoping to become brown and manage to turn red, and then pass their evenings in the numerous bars and restaurants. They also hearald the end of the bad weather.
As it was wet and cold for both events, no sooner are the over, than the temperature in Nice rises to the high 30s and it is beautiful.
The sea turns blue but the cleaning boats are not yet out so pieces of tomato, and discarded sanitary towels float past you on the beach in Villefranche.
Work wise for a teacher of English is has been a good month, June is so so, and July and August are barren and scary. They beckon like a desert of sand, daring the camel to cross it and try to survive and one can't know if survival is possible with out trying. Perhaps with the CV's and interviews there may yet be an Oasis on the horizon but realistically speaking, hope is buried under the last remaining palm tree. Creativity goes out the window, Initiative flies the coop, and I am left staring and wondering, looking at my shoes willing them to transport me in the direction of the hotel or bar that will take one look at me and say "yes, we have a job for you".
The problems of regulating time to see my son and of possibly breaking contracts with the schools for the month of June have to be ignored. Food has to be put on the table and a roof kept over my head. So on I go. Perhaps tomorrow the outlook will be brighter, some link in the chain of chance and good fortune will fall into place, or perhaps I don't give enough credit, and take for granted, the amazing links of good fortune that have already befallen me. So to whoever or whatever is in control I say thank you for the many gifts but "please sir can I have one more", a permanent monday to friday preferably, if you don't mind, that can give me the means to stay. That's all I ask. Alternatively, if someone needs a writer or editor of english or a translator from French to English, then let them pick me. Please pick me.
Perfume and Scent Routines - *Details, part I; Claude Paradin: Devises Héroïques, 1551.* Since perfume became important to me, I've become far more aware of all the smells around me, f...
1 week ago