If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast.

- Hemingway

French men make me sick, always have done. I'm degenerate, but they are dirty with it. Not only in the physical sense either, they have greasy minds. Other foreigners may have garlic on their breath, but the frogs have it on their thoughts as well.

- Flashman

Monday, 1 November 2010

That Sunday Evening Feeling....

I’m currently sitting in some depressing corner of Edinburgh Airport waiting for boarding to begin for my 5.30 flight to Charles de Gaulle International Airport and I cannot help but feel a bit glum. This past week has been one of the best and while I may be feeling slightly worse for wear, every day has been filled with good company or good food, more likely both and definitely a good bed at the end of it. Having my 18th birthday combined with the mass influx of student friends from the ‘provinces’ for the opportunity to be recklessly Academical was priceless.

And so the thought of returning to my suburb, my commute, my rugby and my cooking is a tricky one to stomach...! The optimism of the last post has clearly been replaced by something else. However, all the reasons I gave for my optimism are still worthy.

The thought of returning to the full training schedule is ever so slightly daunting as I’ve been quite happy and very comfortable on my reduced programme of gym and rehab without the pressure of rugby sessions. But it’s only 5 weeks before I return home for Christmas.

Training resumes on Tuesday so Monday (a public holiday) will be spent with me in domestic God mode as I scramble eggs while starting the washing machine and chatting on facebook all at the same time.

Not the most uplifting or articulate post I’m afraid, or the most pleasant to read, but possibly the most true, borne out of a slightly dulled brain. It was quite a good night last night, after all...

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