Last night I did a crazy thing: I started writing again. Not the kind of writing I would post here. No. The kind I try to write well for, the kind I actually edit.
I don't know what came over me, but I had this sudden urge. I typed and typed, then I revised. It's still only mediocre, and I'm slightly obsessed with it. I stayed up until four am typing away, and when I actually realized what time it was, I thought, Shit. I really have to go to bed now. Just write for ten more minutes. I finally gave myself one more revision, and then had to stop the madness.
I went to bed at five. I tossed and turned, mainly because I was tossing and turning sentences over in my mind. I tried to rewrite the ending. I don't like it, and it's irking me.
Sleeping wasn't going to happen. I got up at eight again and started re-revising. I worked until 11.00 at which time I realized, Shit, I have stuff I have to do today!
So I did. I went and exchanged money, coming out with over 300 euros more than I thought I would. So I bought myself a camera. And a new pair of pants. And I still have 50 euros left. I checked three stores before buying myself the camera. Had to get the best deal. I also picked up a crappy, 8-euro one-piece swimsuit (don't feel like the Cambodians will appreciate my flabby ass... Lonely Planet suggested a one-piece so I went with it). I rode a metro, walked at least an hour, took two different buses, and spent a lot of time in the mall.
In all that, I never got tired. Omar came over and we talked. Afterwards, we walked to the Gardens, to the Sorbonne, to Montparnasse, and then took the bus to St Paul for dinner. I've covered all of Paris in a day, and only slept two hours last night.
The craziest thing? It's 12.33 and I'm just going to revise one. More. Time. I promise.
Ok. Maybe two.
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