Emily in France 🇫🇷 Has Memorized the Lafayette Rap from Hamilton

Self-isolation, day 9.

I start my day by trying to be the first person at Franprix, at exactly 7:36am.

I guiltily go to the one two blocks away instead of the one downstairs, telling myself that it’s because it’s bigger and thus easier to avoid people and also has a bigger selection, but the reality is that the sky has been blue in Paris ever since confinement began and I really, really want to be outside. On my way there, I duck around people waiting in a single-file line to get into the Tabac, which only accepts one customer at a time.

I shop. The people working in the shop are everywhere, which makes me crazy. I walk in the most convoluted of paths to get around them, which I suppose means that I’m getting my steps in. They notice. “Madame," one of them condescends. (Yes, condescend has now become an intransitive verb. What of it.) "I promise you, no one here is sick.”

My brother’s voice is bubbling up inside me wanting to scold them on the absolute nonsense of what they’ve just said. Do they not know about incubation periods? Do they not understand the point of confinement in the first place? Instead I smile, and I nod, and I buy coffee and oranges. The woman at the checkout, disagreeable on most days, is downright surly. She is probably the only human with whom I will interact today.

I go home. I make coffee. I put on the Hamilton soundtrack. I try to answer emails and keep my brain in my head, which is proving difficult. Singing along to Hamilton will surely help.

I drink an entire pot of coffee.

I do the crossword. Is it just me, or is the New York Times making them easier, now that we’re all quarantined? I finish Wednesday’s in just over 10 minutes. I’ve been racing my sister every day. She keeps beating me, the scallawag.

At 9am, after translating a grand total of 1 ½ chicken recipes, I order a biography of the Marquis de Lafayette off Amazon. I check the delivery status of my Belleville Brûlerie coffee, which has been held captive at the post office since Monday. Having now interacted, even tangentially, with the outside world, I am revived. I do a plank and then I transcribe a phone call. I am on top of the world.

I make a second pot of coffee. 

It’s 10am.
 

Stay safe, stay INSIDE, and à bientôt !
Emily in France