Nothing really went according to plan today. I had intended to continue the walk I had started yesterday and make my way all the way across the city to the Eiffel Tower, where I would celebrate a victorious arrival at Iolanda’s by devouring half a roasted chicken. Unfortunately, I never left the apartment, well, aside from ten minutes.

You see, French weather-people lie just as much as those irritating ones back home who all think we are deeply interested in their personal lives — news flash, news anchors, we’re not, well, at least, I’m not. They told me that it was going to be sunny and warm and bright and springlike just like Saturday had been, but OH NO! Instead, the skies of Paris were blessed with clouds, cold winds, and rain.

I only discovered the rain part when I was walking home from the Bastille Metro stop, where I had gone to recharge my Navigo pass. That was much easier than the fiasco it had been the first two times I had to do that, and for that, I was grateful. I walked up the stairs, entered a very sunny world, smiled, then, the clouds appeared, and drizzle fell, eventually soaking my jacket on my three minute walk back home.

After that, I just decided to stay in, which was probably for the best. I needed to study for my tests on Friday. In the end I managed to learn about 30 flashcards, and memorize two recipes, which still bewilders me. How is it possible that I can memorize a recipe, but I can’t even try to memorize a bar of music? Oh well, I suppose I should be grateful to my new prowess at memorization.

After that, I didn’t do much. I finished my book, No Touch Monkey!, and started a new one on Gloria Swanson.

At midnight, I tried to make myself go to sleep, but that was entirely fruitless. I’ll discuss that maddening adventure tomorrow, where, chronologically, it belongs.