Blasey-Ford and Kavanaugh

I watched Blasey-Ford on tv at my downstairs neighbours on Thursday—was it (still a little blurry from jet lag)?—then came upstairs, made myself some dinner and watched Kavanaugh’s opening statement, which was enough to give me nightmares, apparently, since I woke myself up in the small hours, struggling to cry ‘Help, help!’ but not making much noise—not enough to bring the neighbours running. Was I reliving Blasey-Ford’s experience? Maybe.

Yesterday I ran errands again, to the SNCF to print out my Amsterdam tickets for Tuesday’s trip, a newstand to buy a magazine, then, though it was cold, through the Luxembourg Garden where I found a comfy chair near the duck pond and read for a while before returning home for supper and early bed. In fact, I fell asleep over a detective novel I downloaded to my ipad for the plane trip, but, to my annoyance, find I’ve already read. It shouldn’t matter, should it, since the plots of this series are all pretty much the same? That reminded me of the time I wanted to buy a copy of the previous day’s Le Monde; the newsie allowed as he had a copy, but ‘it’s been read.’ I bought it anyway…

It looks like a sunny day outside: sharply angular shadows on the buildings across the street. But the air is cold.