So what's the moral?

So what's the moral of my trip to Paris?

1.  I'm a bad traveler.  I don't make plans, and I would rather not go look at monuments with my time.  I love to go to movies (especially with my student discount).

2.  I'm easily injured.  I incurred three injuries while in Paris.

 I got this blister from trying to open my Schweppe's in the movie theatre.  This might prove that I need to work out more and not go to so many movies.  But I will tell you that I did eventually succeed.  Though I also shredded a layer of my thumb nail in this attempt.  Not pleased.

These are two of my four mysterious "hostel bites".  I suspect they are mosquito, since I physically saw one in my bunk on Monday night but we don't really know.  Here's hoping.
















Thirdly, I got a blister on my left heel that healed into a callous in the same day.  I only noticed because earlier in the day on Tuesday I remembered feeling like there was a blister on my heel but I powered through.  Later, I remembered all of this again, checked, and yes I do have a blister callous there.  I would love to show you, but honestly my calloused heel is not very photogenic.

3.  I have fully taken ownership of my apartment and the entire city of Bordeaux.  I fully appreciate it now.  I love my ridiculous bed with the sleeping bag inside the duvet cover and my single flat square pillow.  It makes me not want to leave Bordeaux, not because I want to spend more time abroad/in France/away from MURICA and Wartburg, but because I apparently become very attached to my routines and spaces.  And planes make me feel gross and I'm really not looking forward to getting on another one ever again.

I'm blaming place cells.  Maybe I have too many.  Maybe they're overactive.  Idk.