It has been a really long time, hasn't it?
Sometimes I wonder if I have stopped blogging forever. I met up with B a few weeks ago (we both still live in London, as do a lot of people I know from Paris) and she asked why I wasn't blogging.
I don't want to sound dramatic, but for the past few months I have felt like it is the end of the world. We all have mental shutters pulled down to the news, or we wouldn't be able to walk around as if everything is normal when millions of people are running for their lives halfway across Europe, and world leaders like David Cameron say that their first priority is to "make sure that British holidaymakers are able to go on their holidays".
Every time I try to think about blogging, I think who cares when it is the end of the world.
"Paris is under siege shall I blog about wanting to get a hair cut??"
The answer is always no. My shutter-thing has come unhinged enough that I can't bring myself to write about anything trivial, but not enough that I am moved to get on a ferry to Calais and help out.
The last post I wrote was about Paris, and then the terrorist attacks happened a few weeks after. Abby came to visit me and Lauren recently and she said the streets are empty and people are scared to look at each other on the metro. (Everyone I know in Paris is safe, thankfully.)
I read a book recently that took me by surprise, it was a David Mitchell fantasy novel that spans decades and at the end of the book the world was ending and turning savage, radiation blowing on the wind from a nuclear power plant disaster. One character mentioned the name of the plant 'Hinkley Point' - I didn't realise that was the real name of the plant they're going to build in Somerset. I nearly jumped out of my skin when I read the name in a news bulletin email.
What is the point of all this? To keep blogging I guess. I'm really hoping I can get back into Left Bank Manc as I used to love it so much, and now I never write at all.