Posts Tagged ‘Boredom’

Really, life is starting to get busier. I have class every day of the week — well, not this Friday because of weird scheduling conflicts, but that’s a fluke — and homework assignments and paper work to fill out for the French Government, so I’m doing things.

But nothing is incredibly pressing. Nothing is sitting here on my desk calling for me immediately, demanding that I get going right away. I have due dates and deadlines and suggested end times, but nothing really pushes me on a daily basis. Except, of course, the desire to avoid spending piles of money, which is becoming increasingly easier as the Euro continues to sink, thanks to the financial situation in Greece that worsens daily. I’m holding out for a complete collapse of the Euro — think of how cheap everything will be!

So, I fill my time with running. Granted, I’m not running incredibly long distances or training for a marathon or anything like that. I’m just running. When I get home from class and look at the hours between just then and the time when I might feel like preparing my delicious yet solitary dinner for one, I realize that the best thing I can do is go for a run.

So I run. True, I’d probably run even if I had to fight to fit it into my schedule — I’ve done that in the past, and I’m planning on doing it again in the future. Running is a daily need; without running I don’t sleep well, I don’t eat as much, I don’t feel as awake and lively as I could.

I vary my runs — sometimes along the canal, sometimes up the hill to my favorite park — but the important thing is that I run. It gets me out of the house and out of the neighborhood and into the world around me. It makes me feel like I did something significant that day. It makes dinner taste better.

It keeps me going.

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I ride the metro a lot.

And I mean, a lot. As we have learned, I could easily walk to and from Sciences Po’s campus on the other side of the river every day, but when I have mornings like I had today, where I slept a little too late, ran a little too long and walked a little too leisurely with my lunchtime baguette, it’s nice to know that all I have to do is hop on the number 4 at Gare de l’Est to quickly be at school.

But I wish that my trips could be a little more beneficial, or at least have a greater amount of need to warrant them. Except for two class Tuesday, I ride the metro mostly just once a day — down there for class and then back home two hours later. It’s kind of excessive, but that’s how they set up classes here. Most courses only meet once a week for two or even three hours, so the rest of the time is basically up to you to figure out how to fill.

I spend a lot of this time reading, and wandering around and cooking, but I hope that all these warnings of Sciences Po making its students “trop debordés” (too overbooked/busy) are actually correct. I would absolutely LOVE to be debordé. Ça me rendrait heureux.

These last two days were relatively similar. Started my day with breakfast and some news reading, had a simple lunch, took the metro to Sciences Po, attended a reporting/journalism class — one on basic reporting, one on reporting techniques for French culture,  both appear interesting and informative — came home, went for a run (well, today I ran in the morning), made dinner and thought about my evening.

Yesterday, the dinner party gang and I went to see “Cabaret” with Liza Minelli in a nifty little theatre near Place St. Michel. It was really kind of unnerving — I’d never seen the movie, and I found Joel Grey to be just a little bit scary — but in all a good time.

Tonight, I might meet up with another UNC friend for coffee or something. There’s a big Sciences Po party somewhere tonight — actually, if Facebook serves me right, there are probably 2 or 3 ScPo parties — but I haven’t been very lucky with those in the past, so I might just call it a night or find something else to do elsewhere.

I wish things were more exciting here. This weekend I’m supposed to go on a Vespa tour of the city with a French friend (!), and I’m planning on going to a traditional French marché on Sunday morning with another friend to find ingredients for our proposed gypsy soup — thanks be to Molly Katzen, “The Moosewood Cookbook,” and my parents for uniting me with that lovely soup recipe — so I’d imagine things might get more exciting soon.

I have one more class to visit — my French seminar on music, politics and society — and it will most likely be very scary. I’m hopeful. Things have turned out pretty nice thus far.

Let’s hope they keep going.

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