Yesterday it snowed in Paris. After giving up on my plan to go running, I decided to out and look at the pretty and take pictures and try to appreciate it for about four minutes before I go back to my standard routine of loathing the existence of snow.
Behold, a short (and incredibly shaky) vlog!
I saw more than a few people out running yesterday while I was walking around. Thanks to that thing that my brain does where it convinces me that (1) I am the center of everyone’s universe -and- (2) everyone around me can read my thoughts, I could feel them judging me. Their eyes were saying, “Look at us running like any other day. Why aren’t you running? Snow? Really, that’s your excuse? Pathetic.”
So I had to go run today. Or jog, really. I’m not sure my speed can fairly be termed “running.” In addition to the misery generally brought on by running jogging when you can see your breath, I was in constant terror that I was going to slip and fall and compound the humiliation brought on by the thick, bright red sweatpants I wore. (Proper layers > dignity.)
As you can see, the brief truce I called with snow has ended and it’s back to business as usual. Still, there is a short list of people who never dreamed they’d see the day when I was actually appreciative of snow. There it is. Don’t expect it to happen again any time soon.
