Paris redeems itself

After a coffee and croissant at the High Temple of Invalides with some fellow fire-alarm recipients (and of course I bought more pastry à emporter), then another coffee to go from Anglo-y Coutume (where they do the latte art on a 2-euro macchiato!), then a bunch of grocery shopping at Bon Marché, I'm remembering why Paris is not, in fact, horrible. Even with the crap exchange rate requiring me to remember that all prices are nearly x 1.5, amazing food here is strangely affordable, certainly compared with the options I had in NY. I will drown my exhausted fury at my juvenile-delinquent dorm-mates in Passendale and coeur de rumsteck. I will stay away from sprouts. (Is this a food anyone actively seeks out, as opposed to a disappointing garnish?)

And we even saw a leaping dachshund! As in, a long-haired dachshund that saw a puddle and jumped really high to get over it, then jumped some more adorably for good measure at the other curb. And I'm sufficiently exhausted post-last-night (post-this-morning, really, given that it was light out by the end of it) that I might just be able to return to a normal sleep and thus work schedule.