Hunger

I'm forced to do most of my shopping at a store called monoprix, which roughly translates to "our prices are uniformly obscene, but we're the only joint in town so suck it." (Okay, that might be going a little Fagles, but that's definitely their secret slogan.) I knew about this place called 'Cora,' but I hadn't gotten desperate enough to make the 45 minute trek. Until TODAY. Goddamn, it's a poor kid's paradise. I nearly threw out my back lugging my canned veggies and pasta (along with the pâté, madelines, and chorizo sausage I had only dreamed of purchasing at monoprix) back to my wee room, but hey, it cost practically nothing, so who cares? I wasn't using my back anyway. I may even have a chance of not starving to death by the end of the month.

I actually ate one of the best sandwiches of my life this weekend. My French sister took me to this little stand in Montparnasse, and I had mozzarella, basil, tomatoes, ham, and figs on crisp toasted bread. As we munched, I unloaded on my sister a lot of the anxieties I've been feeling about Don Julio. She allayed most of my fears, and cautioned me on everything else. I was really grateful to talk to her. Borealis, too, I finally got to talk to for more than 10 minutes. I’m lucky to have so many friends nearby.

I'm trying very hard to maintain a life outside of Don Julio, but often I resent these necessary efforts. It's harder during this vacation, since my two other major social connections in my town, Lili and my friendly Canadian neighbour, are both off visiting family. I've got to put my foot down and start going to crew on Sunday mornings again. Oi. I still act as though I’m all about forming new social connections, though, so one of the teachers at school passed on my number to her daughter’s boyfriend. He’s a handsome guy who’s roughly my age, and very tied up in the local scene. We arranged to have a drink yesterday night, but I found myself only half there, nodding along to the conversation between him and his friend, secretly wondering about the various actions and non-actions of Don Julio.

I hate that. I hate being too wrapped up in another person. It hurts.

I guess that's why I felt so delighted about my trek to Cora today. Sometimes simple tasks like taking myself to the grocery store allow me to reassert my independence to myself. The concrete action of scouring the shelves for the lowest price on canned peas somehow enables that overwhelming hunger for his presence to rein itself in, and the tight pain in my chest begins to subside. Yes, I could probably ask Don Julio to drive me to a store - just like I know I could take up his offer to wash my clothes at his apartment and avoid the ridiculously high laundromat tariffs - but I prefer throwing out my back to becoming too reliant on someone. Therein lies the way to a boring personality...and who wants to date that?