Stupid 5-day Weekend

Ack! Thursday is a holiday (the Ascension, whatever that is), and since the French are the laziest peoples in the world (not really, but sort of), this means a five day weekend. Yes, you heard that right, five days. Much like Americans with Thanksgiving, the French see no point in going to work on Friday if they didn’t go on Thursday. Wednesday is only actually a day off for the kiddoes, who often have Wednesdays off. So technically, it’s only a four-day weekend and I can’t pick on them for that because we also have one four-day weekend during the year.

Anyway, I know I shouldn’t be whining, because I have three days off. Yeah, yeah, yeah, tiny violins playing the saddest song in the world, I know. But my host family is leaving town Wednesday afternoon, and I can’t come with because they’re going to stay with family in Deauville and there isn’t room for me. This means I have absolutely nothing to do in a big empty house for four and a half days!! What am I gwanna do? If I wasn't trying to save every penny, I would go somewhere, anywhere, for the weekend. But I'm trying to save for a trip this summer, and I have no friends in any other town, so I’m stuck. Pooh. Sarah suggested that we go to Albi on Saturday, so I’m excited about that, but I can’t stand the thought of spending Thursday and Friday in the empty house. You know, the way I always do, but without the knowledge that the house will be full and active again at 5 pm.

Hm, I’ve been meaning to check out the big, new library in downtown Toulouse for seven months. I think it’s high time I actually went ahead and did that. It’s odd how much I love libraries and bookstores, considering that I don’t really like reading. Well, okay, I do like to read, it’s just very hard for me. I’ve always been a slow reader, and I lose my concentration pretty quick, so I can usually only read a couple chapters at a time. Once I put a book down (which is often, as I can only read a couple chapters at a time), I won’t pick it back up for days, even if it’s a great book. There are many, many books that I’ve started and finished months or years later. It took me three attempts, over four years, to finish the second Harry Potter book. Granted, it was the worst book in the series, but it should have been easy, right?

If I were rich, I would go here for the weekend: