I have been living in Paris for 5 months now and so far, university has taken up approximately 99.9% of my time. Through 25 hours a week of classes, constant essays and spending more time in the library than in my little Left Bank flat I have forgotten how to live. Today was my first day off since September. By day off, I mean nothing to do: no classes to go to, no assignments to complete, no reading to be done, no studying to stress over. We are in between semesters here, and yesterday was the final of the six exams I've done over three weeks. On Tuesday lectures start for the second semester and by next week, I'll be well into the rat race of classes, essays and the library. I haven't written all this down mainly because I haven't had the time but also because then, it didn't seem worthy of being put into words. Today I slept for 12 hours, got up and tidied my poor flat, neglected since I moved into it in November. And afterwards, once the notes were put away, ready for a reairing no doubt in September, when I have to re-sit, I didn't know what to do with myself. The plan of action tomorrow is to read the paper at the Café de Flore and walk for a little while, probably ending up at WHSmith on the corner of the rue de Rivoli and rue Cambon to take my fill of terrible magazines and books in English, which, most important of all, do not contain an index. I think I owe it to myself. But first of all, I will write down what the past few months have been like to try to give them some semblance.