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Writing About Paris After Midnight Posted: 26 May 2011 04:41 PM PDT Plying my husband with champagne in Paris. Drink up, honey! Tonight, my husband took our fussing child and held him over my head while I pounded away at the keyboard. “Here, take him, he’s done,” he said. Cole was, in fact, done. It was bed time and he was now suspended mid-air, diagonally over his mother, as he pulled her hair and pressed his open mouth against her face. “Mmmmmooooooohhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa”. Simply translated: time for m–f–ing bed, mama. I continued typing… I was so… close… to finishing… “Ack! Okay.” My husband laughed. “I never had a chance,” he said. After Cole was sleeping, I asked him what he meant. “You know, for all these years, I’ve been unable to break through your revery when you write. Now I know that nothing can.” I had to agree. I am extremely focused when I work. It’s kind of like my thing. You could probably tell me that they are offering free bottles of French wine in the hotel lobby and I’d barely offer an “uh huh”. There are two worlds that I live in. My working, writing world. And then the world the rest of all-y’all live in, otherwise known as the real world. Tonight, it’s after one in the morning. Everyone in my home is asleep. Except me. Tonight, I tell you about my favorite city in the world, Paris. You see, we spent a weekend in Paris recently, and I didn’t work a lick. It’s the only way that I know how to have any kind of work-life balance, which is a term I think was created and perpetuated by workaholics. No one with an actual work-life balance talks about work-life balance. If you find yourself tossing around that phrase, it’s pretty much a red flag that you have a problem. Don’t worry, I have it too. So we go to Paris. I can either be working or not working, there is no in between. This weekend, it was all Paris, all the time, and it was glorious. We walked the streets for hours on end, and the entire time I made my pitch: we must live in Paris. Just for a year. Maybe two years. We have to live here. Look, it’s amazing. Look, at the food. Look! It’s beautiful. Oh my, did you notice the beautiful women, honey? You could look at beautiful French women everyday if you lived in Paris. I may have convinced him. Related Travel Books

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