The Pamp

Wow, has it been a while. Obviously I have been on a blog hiatus for almost two months. I sunk into a funk (rhyme!) and did not have the heart to blog. I was stuck in my anxiety about the future: graduate school, student loans, my desire to be in Los Angeles, marathon training, etc. I had been doing that thing again--forgetting I was living in Paris for probably the last time in my life.

And with that, spring fell over Paris and I was re-inspired. But what exactly was it that pushed me to enter my blog in the search bar and compose a new post? Our adopted cat, Monsieur Pamplemousse.

I was feeling frustrated after a rather tough run yesterday and decided that all I wanted to do was sit and forget about everything. I went out to our garden, tilted my body up towards the sun and began to read. A few minutes later I felt something rubbing against my legs and saw the Pamp himself, curled around my feet. We don't know whose cat he is, where he lives, but he is a continuous presence and lovably fat, so he must be doing ok. Mr. Pamp meowed a bit at me, like usual, and then laid down next to me and spread out, in all his fat glory, and took a nap under the sun. He stayed like this for a whole hour. Doing nothing but basking, and every once in a while would look up at me. Regard:

I need to be more like this cat. Eating well (not as well, maybe), lounging, and enjoying my days in Paris. So Mr. Pamp and I basked together for a while, worrying about nothing but the oncoming shadows and the occasional bug that landed on our faces. 

This morning I opened the front door and found him sitting there, perhaps waiting for me. He whined at me, turned over and demanded that I rub his belly. This little cat brings me such happiness that I might try and steal him. But I think he would make my suitcase overweight...