News and Opinion
Tuesday, September 14, 2004
It was late. I was trying to catch up in my journal. I was
the only one awake in the hotel room at the top of five flights
of stairs (Have I emphasized those stairs enough, yet?) in the
July 11, Paris.
Ok, so there's something that probably should be said about the
fact that I have not found the time to write coherently about this
trip since we returned to Paris. What is it? Life in the big
city? No quiet time? Always on the move? Or is it just that we
have so many tourist-y things to do?
It certainly hasn't been for a lack of trying. For the last
several days I've sat down, only to get a line or two written
before I collapse of fatigue.
I have tried. I really have. If nothing else, my entries of the past
few days are evidence of my frequent attempts to write, abortive
though they were.
Forced to fall back to bulletized lists of the days major events
(and incomplete lists at that), I am certain that I will dread looking
back at them in years to come.
No matter ... onward.
And with that I continued with the previously abandoned summary
of a day three days before. And I only got three more bullets
in the list before I dropped off.
Trip to France - Day 13