I finally will have a place to live in Paris. This should really improve my general mood, even if it will be a little strange because I am sharing the place with my two bosses: Tom, who is more like a friend (he is a good girl-friend's fiance and is an exceptionally intelligent and frighteningly purposeful and disciplined young man), and his ex-boss, a very friendly forty-ish German polyglot, who is a true child of the eighties with all that it implies (e.g. his unashamed enthusiasm for the solarium and for kitschy nouveau riche bars near the Champs-Elysees, the charming way in which he manages to mix up the names of his two female employees (me and the French-African woman from Togo - go figure), the penchant for everything a little over-the-top designer stuff, etc.). On the upside, he will only be staying there two-three nights a week, on average, and I will have to flat to myself most weekends. My sister is coming to see me on Friday and everyone who is reading this is very welcome. Come while it lasts/while I last here - I don't think it will be that long. Management consulting is likely not my life calling, either.