I am sitting in a cafe in Montpanasse, on my own, after several coffees and beers. And god knows how many more cigarettes.
I just spent €200 at FNAC. The radio is playing You’re Beautiful. Its not helping my mood.
Bottom line, I don’t know where I will be next year. It’s now a major issue. My plans have, well, not completely fallen through, but has definitely dropped 16 floors, smashed hard against the floor and is now lying heavy on cracked and creaking floorboards and can go very south from here.
I’m being dramatic I know, but its one of my good points, really.
So point is, where to next? I’m having a big think about it all. Maybe it is time to move on…again.
The worst thing in life is confusion. I don’t mind when things go wrong, I can handle that. It’s not knowing. It’s like when you don’t know where you stand with someone. Its better to be bad and know than to not know. I think so anyway.
So I can only look down at my plans and hope it all works out. Of course, it will all work out in some way.
I wish I knew.