Annoyed

I am rubbing-my-palm-into-my-eye-sockets annoyed.

Annoyance #1
So we have an opportunity to travel this weekend. Yea.

I'd be more enthusiastic if it seemed like a realistic possibility instead of just a pipe dream.

Here are the problems. I can't read French. That means I can't book a train. Beth can't use the internet at work except sparingly. So she can't do it from work. I can't find a single hotel in the Normandy area under $110 a night that has an indoor pool. Why does that matter? Because I'm near enough insanity as it is, I don't need a two year old ushering me over the edge. I also can't figure out where to go when I actually reach the Normandy area, so I can't really plan out our best options for time usage.

When I plan a trip, I like spontaneity but I also like to make at least a small plan. I like to make sure I have a hotel covered, and transportation there and back, transportation when we get there, an idea of what we might want to do. I can't do any of that here and it's really annoying. You go to a national park in the states and there's a website that gives you all your options and helps you find lodging. Cake. Here, it's a do-it-yourself mess.

Annoyance #2

The mail here.

I don't mean Paris; I don't know if other people get there mail. I mean here, in our apartment. Gale sent us a package, among other things, the credit card with no conversion rate I've been waiting for since a week before we left. This time she expressed it and put directions to our apartment door in French on it. This time we have our name right on our doorbell. This time, like last time, they failed to deliver and failed to leave us a note telling us that they failed so I can take said note and go pick up my box!! Aaaarrrrgggghhh!!!

Annoyance #3

Finding an indoor basketball court. And a pool. Heck, I'll throw volleyball in there even though I haven't looked for it...I'm just gonna induce a lack thereof.

My friend Tom said in his last letter, "See you for basketball when you get back." I was hoping everyone would just assume I was too old to play any more. It certainly feels like it. But since not, I had better get into some sort of shape. Preferably one with more sharp edges. Dodecahedron maybe.

The pool part is for Ben. Ya, we found that one, but there's no way I'm going back there. The trip was awful. Every other pool I've looked at though seems to have no room for kids. Not that this one had much, there was just one lane that was twice as big as the others. Yet no other indoor pool in Paris seems to even have that much. They are all for lane swimming. In speedos.


Well. Now that I've dragged you down my to level...I feel better!

Perhaps I'll just take Ben to the sports store again, if I can find it, and get some socks and running shoes. So I can run a block, wait for traffic, run a block, wait for traffic...