All paper trails lead to France. I have a highly-anticipated rendezvous to renew my visa tomorrow. I thought being married would alleviate my copious photocopying in preparation for the French Prefecture, but I have made a grand total of 212 photocopies for my appointment. I was photocopying at Monoprix so long, I memorized the playlist. It was the first time since 1996 I was able to relearn the words to “I Believe I Can Fly.” Forgive me, dear rainforest. Marianne made me do it.
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