June 21 - Hot and Hungover

7:00 a.m. Where are my fellow early-morning coffee drinkers?

8:00 a.m.  James arrives and blames me for all of the sleepyheads. I remember our laughter and smile.

9:00 a.m.  Folks start trickling in, heading straight to the new Lavazza espresso maker. Hopefully we won't break this one, too. I perform my usual ritual of emptying the used coffee capsules into the trash.

Today, I'm having 100 % caffeinated coffee.

10:00 a.m. Most of us are sitting in the dining room, fanning ourselves. I stand next to the air conditioner, letting it fluff under my skirt. We're reliving the previous evening of shenanigans, and I think our low energy is caused as much by our sadness at leaving tomorrow as by the amount of wine consumed. We had about a bottle/person last night, if the empty bottles and carafes are an accurate measure. 

If only I had bought a second bottle of that Trebbiano! We could have that to look forward to this evening. Instead, our fearless director Edmund is hosting a Prosecco tasting before and during our reading in the chapel. I love that space, and would have written there if it had been cooler. It should be a lovely backdrop this evening.

11:00 a.m. We talk about not having any more workshops, and about our published books. I remember most of my cohort are published poets. I think my work has improved, but it isn't as consistently excellent as their work.  I'll have a lot of revision to do when I get home next week. Yet, I am inundated with rich material, happy memories, new friendships, and hope to have a writing breakthrough by the end of the year.

In the meantime, I need to do some laundry. 

When I arrived, I was embarrassed by handwashing my underwear and hanging them out to dry on the community clothesline. I wish I'd had Victoria's Secret lacy things, but sadly, no. I did have a drying rack in my room, where my underwear stayed. But, I'll hang up the dresses I'm going to wear to Rome and Paris after I rinse them again. Everybody else has the same idea, so the clothesline is crowded.

I'm going to give up trying to change my flight from Paris to home.  It would be so much easier to leave from Rome, and I could have a longer visit with Miriam. But, it's going to be in the high 90's, and without a cell phone I have to borrow others' phones and be on hold with British Airlines. Three people have generously offered to do this. One on Tuesday, one on Wednesday, one yesterday. Great group of people here, but I need to stop borrowing phones. British Airlines is not particularly helpful, either. On Wednesday, they said I could change it for free, but I was cut off during the payment of the $5.00 transaction fee. On Thursday, the price was $500.00 to change, so I didn't. Yesterday, they wouldn't let me keep my ideal seat on the Heathrow to SFO leg, and wanted another $1800 dollars to leave from Rome! Incredible.

So, it's Friday afternoon. Tomorrow morning everyone will load on the bus by 6:30 a.m. I'll catch the 10:30 a.m. train to Rome with three new friends. They'll go their way, and I'll meet Miriam and stay at her condo in Trastavere. Saturday night we'll go out to dinner in a gorgeous restaurant, if her past generosity is any indication. Sunday morning, I'll walk around Rome, then catch my Easy Jet flight to Paris at 3:30 p.m.  I can't Uber without a cell phone, but online I saw a taxi stand about four blocks away. Standard rates to Fiumincino Airport are about 40 euros, but I won't have to worry about train strikes.

Right now, I have no place to stay in Paris and I'm pouting I can't hang around Rome until Tuesday. I still haven't seen the Trevi fountain, where I wanted to throw three coins. I guess I'll come back to toss the coins, ensuring I'll return to Rome again.  I don't think there's any doubt about that.

There's lots of availability for two nights in Paris. I think about airbnb again, then think about a really nice private bathroom and air conditioning. A refrigerator, coffee maker, and grocery store nearby would be ideal. Why didn't I think of this before? The dreaded Roquefort Dressing Metro stop has a number of places surrounding it. I'm under budget, so a three-star hotel with a room facing the inner courtyard can be mine for less than 199/night. Now I'm excited. I'm going to sprawl all over that queen-sized bed, buy a bottle of French wine, French berries, French cheese and a baguette at the Monoprix around the corner, and camp out. The Montparnasse Cemetery is across the street, and I'll do a little research for the mystery book I outlined when I was in Paris two weeks ago. One click on the Expedia button, and I'm set. I can take the RER-Blue line from Orly Airport to noble Denfert-Rochereau, walk half a block, and drop my stuff off at a hotel with an elevator.

Now I'm almost too excited to take a nap, but sleep I must. Except, OMG, I don't know what I'm going to read tonight. A quick scan of nine drafts written here indicates nothing is worthy. What if I try an old poetry lesson I used to teach my APE Lit. students? Take lines from all the poems and make one really intense poem? Mine will end up being a narrative, but a "greatest hits" idea really appeals, especially since I have about three hours to finish something before the Prosecco tasting begins at 6:00. Ugh. I could read something else, something more polished, but that doesn't feel right. For our final reading, I need to read something I wrote here. Why do I always need a deadline to get anything done?!