Birthdays last two days.
Yesterday, my boyfriend took me to the sea. The hour long drive to the beach (and the return one) reminded me of a famous scene in the French film “Bienvenue chez les ch'tis” where the protagonist, forced to move from the South of France to the gloomy North, while passing this imaginary line dividing these two sections of the hexagone, passes from a glaring sun to darkness and deluge. Only this time it was reversed.
I cannot tell you how good it was to finally warm my bones, cold from many rainy days, to the light of the sun. How sweet it was, for someone like me, who was born near the sea, to smell it again. How refreshing and calming it was to listen to the sound of the waves and not as the soundtrack of my meditation app.
I normally cannot stay still in one place without distractions (thanks, anxiety), but I could've stand still, laying on our old Decathlon rug, for the whole day.
As for the tiramisù, we had no luck. As restaurants here in France will be able to be open to the public only from today, it seems like yesterday they were all preparing for the big day. Which weirdly didn't coincide with my birthday. (I think there might have been a misunderstanding with Macron.)
Well, the pizzeria near our place usually sells tiramisù (my angel boyfriend called them and they confirmed), so we decided to order some tonight and that my birthday will last two days. The tradition continues...