I love my dog. She wakes me up every morning at 9am and I feed her, let her out, and we start our day togheter. Usually our first manner of business is taking a nap in the sun room; I figure I’m up early so I may as well write, she figures we’re up too early, so she crawls in between my body and my lap top and we both fall asleep. Life’s tough in the Riviera, you know.
But today, after our nap, I had to do some things. I need a job, preferably one that will house me for two weeks. Nobody is hiring, nobody works. So I saw my banker instead. I shifted some money around in my French bank account, hopped on my French scooter, ran into two friends in the streets of St. Tropez, had some ice cream, though of my dog waiting for me at home, and felt awfully French.
When I was young I once saw a beautiful white dog sitting patiently outside a butcher shop in St. Tropez. The dog stared eagerly at the door, waiting as still as a dog can wait, not bothering any of the people walking by with chunks of meat in their bags. Then, suddenly, one woman came out and the dog leapt to its feet, thrilled to see its mistress. It stuck with me as one of my most vivid and favorite memories. I always wanted to be French and have a dog that well behaved. And no I do. She waits outside for me, panting in the sun and eager to have me by her side again.
The kids were at the beach when I came home. I am certainly the odd man out, but grateful that they tolerate my presence as often as they do. I ought to do something nice for them… even though I’m rather poor.
I used to always consider being idle a terrible thing. I remember looking at my brother the summer before he finished college and being stupefied that he could spend every day inside at the computer playing poker. Granted he made quite a bit of money, I just couldn’t see wasting so many beautiful days away from the sun and in utter solitude.
Now I look at myself and think of all the jobs I’ve turned down. I don’t spend every day inside – I spend every day in the sun, in fact – but I am still alone and, aside from writing a bit, completely idle. I just can’t bring myself to take a job I’m not going to love. This is my last summer to play; once I return to the United States that’s it – career for the rest of my life. I’m too young for that shit.
I’m so near to a dream, though. I would like to learn French this summer, and better my writing skills. With French, I can take some classes in the spring and find myself and amazing international marketing job. I’d write a lot for that, and speak a lot of French. I love that people read my blog. It makes me feel so wonderful that I can share this amazing adventure with people and that they actually enjoy hearing what I have to say about it. Lately I just haven’t had the heart – or the time – to write a lot. It may have something to do with how exhausted I’ve been. No emails, no blog… I’ve just got other things to do, like get to know a long lost cousin, watch men who sing and cook in awe, play with my newfound best friend.
In other news, I found my keys and I’m not homeless until Sunday – and even after I am homeless, I may still be able to keep the car. Life’s starting to look up a bit?
No comments:
Post a Comment