J'ai mal encore!

Okay, people. This time it wasn't three lousy little laps. It was TWELVE, okay? Twelve laps around that track thing, the whole time wishing I had a blunt object or something ... not that I'd attack a teacher. I wanted to kill myself.

True, they were not consecutive bangbangbang one right after the other. We had a break. Yes A break. As in ONE.

Devil woman!

At one point I was seriously considering pretending to have hurt myself to escape the hell I had somehow fallen from France into. Fortunately, it didn't some to that because soon enough the old ankles flared up again and I have been once again crippled. I walk on flat feet at a speed of about a quarter mile an hour, at best.

Good news, though, I got my Carte Imagine R, which is a prepaid card of sorts for all public transportation, which means no more dealing with half-witted RER train ladies who sell me tickets to Paris (a euro more expensive than what I need) because that's undoubtedly the only place I would need to go. Also, no more stealing transportation. That has always been a novel thing to me. Get on the bus ... sit down ... steal a ride home.

Not that I've done that. I'm a good person. I pay my way ... almost all the time (wink).

That's all, folks.

Catch you later.

Leah