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J'ai de la chance

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I've got a pretty accurate internal alarm clock... I'll set an alarm for 10:30 (like today, for example), and then I end up waking up at 10:20. This happens regularly. I definitely would have liked to stay in bed for 10 more minutes... but I decided to go out to the kitchen and set the table for breakfast instead. Sheila and I ate together, as usual (which is going to get difficult for part of the week since she has an 8 AM class... I'll just go back to bed, I guess), then we did a load of laundry that we'd put off since this weekend. We got ready, and I made myself another "interesting" (as Madame would have said if she'd seen me make it) sandwich to take with me for lunch. The laundry took a little longer than we expected to finish, so Sheila wasn't in the best mood by the time we left to take the metro, but we speed walked and made up for it. We had to buy more credit for our Navigos, and we can buy the monthly credit for October, so we'll have to do that soon. I'll probably hit up an ATM tomorrow so I can get enough cash to do it...

Kyle, Rouge, and Suzannah were in the library at Sweet Briar, so we hung out there for a while. I signed up to take a tour of Versailles next month, and one of Bastille's Opera on Friday. Once the library emptied out when most people went to class, and Suzannah and I were the only ones left, I figured I'd do some more google searches to see if I could find a halfway decent dietary store where I could buy some more gluten-free food past the bread that Madame buys for me. I found a big store in the 5th arrondissement that's close to Paris III, so I might go there after I register for classes on Thursday... if I have time. I'll be missing my first class for the day to register, but I have my second class in the afternoon. Suzannah and I were talking about looking for work sometime soon, and Joan came into the library in the middle of our conversation. She told us to go check out the petites annonces board in the entrance of the Alliance Française building on the other side of the street. Sweet Briar is technically part of Alliance Française, so we're entitled to such things. We left to go take a look at it, and after reading through all of the tiny pieces of paper, I found a listing that might work for me... A mother was searching for a young woman (specifically English or American) to practice English with her two daughters (ages 9 and 12) two specific times of the week that fit into my schedule. I snapped a picture of it so that I could call and inquire about the position later on, no email address was listed. That was probably a good thing, serious applicants have to call, you can't hide behind an email. Suzannah found something that might work for her too, so she noted the listing and planned to email a little while later. We hung out in the library for a while, and headed to Carrefour with Rouge and Kyle later on in the day to fix Rouge's sugar craving before we all went home. Rouge had mentioned having a "1PDP" (or one person dance party) on the elevator this morning when she was listening to "Call Me Maybe." This led to Kyle and Rouge simultaneously listening to "Call Me Maybe" on their iPods while we walked to Carrefour while dancing and lip-syncing. I'm so glad I have crazy friends...

When we got to the metro, we were on the stairs to get onto the platform when the bell to signal that the doors were closing sounded, so all of us bolted onto the train just in time, and no one had to use their heads to stop the door! Oh, that's an inside joke. Allow me to explain. When we went to the Latin Quarter the second time, we were making a transfer, and we had about three minutes before our train was set to arrive. Rouge figured she had enough time to buy something to drink from a nearby vending machine. The train pulls up, everyone but Joan and Rouge get on, Kyle's yelling at Rouge to get on the train, but Rouge has already put her money in... she basically tries to stop the doors from shutting with her head. It didn't work, and all of us were too busy laughing to help her. She ended up catching the next train (she got her drink after all), and we met up later. Tangent over...

Once I got home, I realized I'd forgotten to stop by a pharmacie to buy a pill splitter. There's one close by the house, so I ran over, and my "luck" from the metro continued...

"Bonjour, Madame. Je voudrais acheter quelque chose pour couper les pilules en deux."
(Hi, M'am. I'd like to buy something to cut pills in half.)

The woman opened a drawer near her register, pulled out a pill splitter, and placed it on the counter as I reached for my wallet, then said three magical words...

"Je vous offre."
(I'm giving it to you.)

Shut the front door. IT WAS FREE. Off I went, as rich as I was when I left the house, plus one pill splitter. My day just kept getting better! I called the number from that job offer I found this afternoon, and even though the woman on the other end switched to English (and lord knows the seven minute call ate up a halfway-decent amount of my credit, tant pis), the position hadn't been filled yet, and I have an interview at her house on Wednesday at seven. Assuming the interview goes well, I'm thinking I'll be employed by the end of this week. This is good. Very good. I feel like someone slipped some Felix Felicis in the hot cocoa I got from the vending machine at Sweet Briar this morning. I cleaned my desk up a little bit, then I figured I'd weigh myself since it's been a week since I figured out that I only weighed 115 pounds. I'm definitely happier this week, it looks like those two visits to Helmut Newcake and the galettes du sarrasin have done their job... I'm 118 now. So long as I hover around here, I think I'm sitting pretty. I should probably find a way to exercise a bit more, since I want to start gaining some more muscle. We had the curry (it was turkey, which was new for me) tonight for dinner, along with some rice and an onion chutney. Madame kept warning us that it was épicé (spicy), and it was, but in my experience so far... French food really isn't spicy. Madame was sweating a little bit as she ate. This was definitely the edge of my threshold for spicy food, but I'm an absolute baby when it comes to spicy things. People that have gone out to eat with me in the past can attest to this, I've had to pass up dishes for spice factor, and people much "whiter" than I am have been able to stomach them. Poor Sheila... she had a slightly different problem... She told me that Indian food makes her dizzy! It's not that she doesn't like it, or that it's too spicy for her (she's Honduran, the girl can drink Tabasco), she just feels dizzy after eating it, and has to lie down. How odd...

I've got class tomorrow, and we're continuing with the five days straight of gloomy, rainy Parisian weather. I don't think my good luck can make the rain blow away, but we'll have to see.

Que diable allait-il faire dans cette galère? Molière: Les Fourberies de Scapin

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