28/07/20 

Okay, it’s been quite a while since I’ve written and even though it seems even longer since this whole pandemic began, it’s only really been an issue in the UK for about 5 months.  I have my own thoughts on the whole Coronavirus issue, but they are not for discussion here.  Maybe I’ll write a separate piece about it. 

So, Paris 2020.  At one point, it was going to be the first week of December again.  I like Paris in the winter.  But then global lockdowns happened.  And with it came working from home.  That then brought about a change of plan.  The first week of August.  I like Paris in the summer.  A few days in the city of love, the city of light.  Amazing. 

It was originally going to be the third week of August, however, as always seems to be the case, plans change.  Many times over.  And although I’ve not had confirmation, my cheap Eurostar ticket will no longer be cheap.  An increase of over £100 a journey really isn’t an enticement.  My overnight bus journey fare has doubled in fare; a sign I’m not meant to go?  Either way, France is on the cusp of a second lockdown and as a result could well end up on the quarantine list along with Spain.  But that’s how this crazy world is at the minute. 

I’ve been working from home – as a necessity.  I’m one of the lucky ones that haven’t been furloughed or laid off.  I’m also one of the lucky ones in the sense that I’ve been able to adapt my living quarters to enable such feats.  Not only that, but I’ve also become the full-time parent to my boys for a handful of weeks.  No issue except the finances and environment aren’t really set up for such things.  But I coped.  Because I adapt.  I deal with things as they happen and, generally, I’m either prepared or move into a state of awesomeness whereby I call upon experience and logic to get me through; emotion tends to take a back seat. 

However, Paris 2020 should still happen at some point.  If it means I cancel my annual leave next week – having still heard nothing about confirmed dates – and book a day off in December for quite literally a day in Paris, then I’ll do it.  Which I may decide to do, regardless.  I need to wait a month or so to get the overnight bus tickets, but I can wait.  It simply means my final assignment for my Masters will be starting a little later than anticipated. 

It’s only fifteen thousand words, anyway…