I want to move to France. I’ve been thinking about that more and more lately. By the end of the year I will have my bachelor’s in writing (yes, it is going to finally happen) and I keep thinking about what next.
While it would be smart to go find a state-side job and become a self sustainable adult, a big portion of my psyche has been in constant flirtation with daily day dreams regarding Paris. Or Marseilles. Or Nice. I just want to be over there.
This post really stems from today’s daily prompt about what you would do if you could wake up fluent in a language. If I woke up fluent in French (aside from the six years studying the language that I have forgotten) I think I would do whatever was possible to get over there.
I think I have a bit of a delusion about being an American writer in Paris; drinking absinthe, midnight walks in the rain, waking up with a view of the Eiffel tower. At the very least, I would love to just go look at stuff – maybe sit at a street corner bistro.
While I go spend a solid hour looking at trip advisor, take a look at some other posts from this prompt:
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