Two million things to do before leaving for France. And what if it gets cold in Paris? Or rainy? Will my beloved agree to walk everywhere? Will he adapt to bathing without a shower curtain?
Was I supposed to have warned him about the co-ed bathrooms? Will I get tired of translating dinner menus for him?
Will I have time to browse through all the bookstores on the left bank? Shop for undies at the Galeries Lafayette? Drink espresso with impunity?
I've got the planes tickets, train tickets and hotel reservations lined up. My parents have just moved into their new house on the Mediterranean.
- 'Your room looks fabulous,' my mom said. 'New bed, new sheets. And I just bought a mirror and dresser.'
- 'And the weather?'
- 'It's perfect.'
So why am I grouchy?
Because I am a woman of habit and a homebody. I like to sleep in my own bed and drink from the same cup every morning. I need to be tossed out of the nest to fly. Left to my own devices, I will remain within the safe triangle of home, work and the local grocery store. Check my car for proof: 88,000 miles in 9 years. My tires have practically grown roots.
I will be fine, not to worry. I'll start by making a new nest on the plane with pillows and a couple of Air France blankets. I am sure I'll find a nook to anchor myself at a Paris cafe. I'll put my name on a lawn chair under my mom's plum trees. From there, I'll survey the situation and gently, gently, uproot myself to the next destination.