For the past few days I’ve been living my life in a strange sort of limbo… not in Paris anymore but not yet home, I am living out of my suitcase and have the impression that I’m on a holiday that will soon end. I can’t shake the idea that I will be boarding a plane back to France any day now. Suffice it to say that I may have recovered from the jetlag, but beyond that, it’s taking me a while to adjust to my new reality. It’s hard to pinpoint what I miss the most; the things that I can’t get used to, like flushing the toilet with a handle rather than a button, have surprised me and the things that I’ve taken in stride, like driving a car for the first time in eighteen months, have surprised me even more. I still dream in French, and I still half-expect to turn some ordinary corner past Second Cup Coffee and find myself wandering in the jardin du Palais-Royal. These things take time, I suppose.