Treading water

I'm busy.

Too busy.

Really.  It's getting kind of ridiculous.

I'm busy at work and busy socially.  I don't have time to do lots of things that I should and can't even think about doing many things that I want to.

I've neglected my blog roll (sorry!) and I'm finding it hard to call my Mother more than twice a week.  I just about manage to hold down a Facebook page, but seriously, that's it.  I've had to get up at 6am to post this missive, such is the disaster that is my schedule at the moment.

To give you an example of how crazy my days are, let me tell you about yesterday.

Yesterday, I planned to start the day easily with an hour of catching up on general rubbish in the house.  No chance.  I've been trying to talk to my boss about something for days and when does she choose to call?  Yep, I lost the hour I'd put aside and then some.  

By the time I got off the phone, I was fifteen minutes late for my train.

So, instead of taking a leisurely métro ride to the Gare du Nord, I ended up rushing to find a cab and racing off to meet Debbie.  This would be the first of four taxis yesterday.

I take the train to Lille, then change stations and trains and head further north to Calais.  All the train ride I am working, prepping the meeting that I am heading to in Calais.

A taxi, hotel meeting room and another taxi later, I'm back at Calais Fréthun TGV station and back on the train to Lille.

In Lille, I grab a sandwich and jump the train to Paris.  I grab a sandwich because I know it's my only hope of eating that day.  I'd alread missed lunch and so was determined not to miss dinner.

Arriving in Paris, I head off to see the first friend of the evening.  And this is where the day gets crazy.

I have a lovely time with my new Paris Blogging Friend at the Opéra Garnier - it's a modern dance performance that started good, got better and ended up with an amazing, moving, disturbing piece that - to me - was about pack mentality, alpha male-ism, bullying and torture.  It was amazing, yet uncomfortable.  The French found it hilarious and laughed a lot.  Bunch of insensitive freaks.

Alas, after the performance, I didn't have time to really chat with PBF as I had a second friend to see.  He was waiting for me on the steps of the Opéra and we headed off to my favourite bar for a drink.  It was lovely to catch up with him, but we only had an hour together as he had a train to catch and  I had a third 'date'.  

Yep, I told you that the day was crazy. 

Anyway, as we left the bar, we kissed goodnight and planned that the next time we'd have longer together.  With this friend, it's hard.  I never really get to see him that often and, when we do, both of us always leave feeling short-changed.  We spent the next half hour texting each other back and forwards - him on his train, me in the final taxi of the day.  We made tentative plans for next week.  We'll see.

I get out of the taxi at the final friend's apartment in the fancy 16th, take the lift up to his flat and collapse into bed.  Luckily he was already there.  Luckily I found a bit of energy.

I get to sleep at around 1.30 thinking of the chaos that today has in store for me.

I know I said that I'd got up at 6am to write this post, but that was a bit of a lie - I was up already.  I'd left the flat in the 16th at 5.30 this morning, taken the métro and walked in through my own front door at 6am.

I'm off to shower now.  Iron a shirt and shine my shoes.  I need to be up and out in half an hour.

Goodness knows when I'll phone my Mother.