The French have a saying, “Il n’existe pas”. It’s closest American equivalent is: There isn’t any; or, there’s no such thing. A few examples:
Day 2: We spent the day trying to make coffee; because without coffee, the human brain wasn’t made to function–that’s a known fact. Our apartment has a Nespresso-mini but nothing we tried worked.
Around 3pm, we settled for the “aroma of coffee” and water with cream. Day 2 coffee: Il n’existe pas.
Day 3: Went to big grocery store appropriately named Big Grocery Store (Le Grand Épicerie). Sales lady says “Nespresso capsules n’existe pas!” Except…
Night 3: Wrong turn out of the subway station yields this:
Oh, il existe, alright. I’m thinking about finding Grand Epicerie lady tomorrow and shoving the tiny capsules into her nose parts but then the nice Nespresso lady offers me coffee and my life is suddenly spun sugar and rainbows.
Day 4: Siri helpfully reminds me that it’s my dad’s birthday and that I should call him. Being that he passed away two years ago I can only sip my morning Nespresso coffee and calmly utter, “Il n’existe pas.”
Happy birthday, Dad. You do exist in my heart.
Photos from the Chinese New Year Parade, the Yellow Vest protests, Jardin des Plantes, and other stuff we did while deprived of coffee: