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our Parisian selves

There’s a picture I love in the upstairs hallway. It sits on our Georgian desk (called so because it’s from the Georgian period in England, not because it’s from Georgia…am I a brat or what?), and I can see it while I walk up the stairs.

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Nate has been gone for another two-week international work trip and arrives home again today. I find myself looking at the picture more when he’s away, probably because I miss him. I imagine that the people in the picture are actually another version of us, living in Paris and sitting in squares and leisurely eating bread. Somehow, when I’m in the middle of parental squalor and chaos, this vision of our Parisian selves gets me through the moment. Maybe some day we’ll make it back to Paris and meet up with our parallel universe. You think?

What are your tricks to achieve the “Ohm” state of mind?

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