I KNEW I had an 8 AM this morning. I set my alarm for 7:40, thinking it was 6:40. I got ready, not realizing how late I was until I walked into my class. Coffee in hand, I strode in casually and interrupted someone's oral presentation. The class laughed. I looked at my clock and realized it was 9 AM. Holy shit. C'est pas grave.
Lien came to our art history class because she had nothing better to do and then skipped her actual class so we could eat lunch. Afterwards, we stopped for café au crème and banana chocolate tarts at our favorite cafe. We took our sweet-ass time like the French do and finished our lunch two hours later. I love how relaxed everyone is here. In restaurants, it's rude for the waiter to leave the bill on the table because the establishment doesn't want to rush you. My boyfriend's a waiter and I don't think he understands this un-American custom. ha.
Later, I suffered through two hours of histoire de France, and let me tell you, that class is impossible. I cannot concentrate on two hours of note-taking and lecturing in French. As much as I try to center myself, my mind always wanders to Spring Break, or meeting my boyfriend in Paris, dining beneath the Eiffel Tower...sigh. I'm in Europe, why do I have to be in class?