This morning I’m feeling a little homesick, I guess. I miss my friends, my family and my little nieces and nephews. And I’m also feeling a little sick of Paris. I miss being able to get in my car and be somewhere in 10 minutes. I miss having a dryer that doesn’t take two hours to dry underwear. I’m tired of planning my day around the heat, having to shower endlessly and grimy subway rides. I’m sick of wifi that doesn’t work half the time, has to be constantly rebooted, and isn’t available in public. I wish I had cable; it’s also been out since I got here. I long for the BBC or CNN, and of course, I miss Rachel Maddow and Chris Hayes.

I wish I could sleep with the windows open without wearing earplugs because it’s so noisy. I wish my feet didn’t hurt, and I’m tired of eating dinner alone. I’m tired of carrying my credit cards pinned to my underwear because the pickpockets are so bad here. I’m wish it didn’t take so much time to figure out my subway routes.

I miss my studio, being able to have all my paint and pastels accessible at a moment’s notice, and not having to worry about making a mess. I’m tired of light bulbs costing $8 each and everything else almost double what it is back home. I’m sick of dog poop in the street, hot water being limited, packaging that falls apart, and the refrigerator handle being so low I have to stoop for it. I don’t want to be hoarding twist ties, rubber bands, paper towels and baggies.

I know this will pass, and it mostly has to do with the unbearable heat returning for the past couple days. Excess heat makes me grouchy. Off to the Tuileries to paint. That and several showers afterward should work wonders. Paris, I love you mostly. But this morning, I miss America.

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