I am falling behind! Days 4 - 5.5 or 6

Sunday morning I did, in fact, go jogging.  At 7:30 a.m. the streets were pretty empty; I ran down to the Seine and along the quay and mostly only saw other joggers.  Then I set off in the direction of the Canal St. Martin, a neighborhood that is supposed to contain a bustling street market.  I found the word "bustling" to be an apt description, and after a short time in that area settled into an exploration of the Marais neighborhood.  I visited the Victor Hugo house and museum, the Hotel Sully (the word hotel seems to describe any sufficiently-large house) and, after an energizing crepe sucre (really, they put sugar on the crepe and fold it up), the Pompidou Center (which happened to be offering free admission because it was the first sunday of the month).

Monday I set off bright and early for Notre Dame, which I had read was much nicer in the early morning.  I got there not too long after it opened at eight and walked around; I couldn't up the tower or into the crypt because neither were open yet.  Still, it was a much better visit than the last time I went, when it was mobbed by tourists and I could barely see anything.  Afterwards, the other attractions on the Ile de la Cite were not open yet, so I made a detour to the Starbucks I'd looked up the previous evening (yes, they do have a few here) for the purpose of getting proper coffee (the kind with a filter).  Then I went back to the Ile de la Cite and saw the Conciergerie (an old prison which had before that been part of the castle, dating to the middle ages) and Sainte-Chapelle (a chapel with incredible stained glass).  I had intentionally gone to the Conciergerie, the less-popular of the two, first, and purchased a combined ticket, which saved me a bit of money and also allowed me to skip the ticket-buying line at Sainte-Chapelle.

Following my morning of history, I crossed to the Left Bank and wandered a bit, eventually making my way to Shakespeare and Company, an English-language bookstore famous for its long history of literary-Americans-in-Parisness.  I spent a long time browsing and then bought two books (books are very expensive in Europe and I clearly did not pack enough - but they are a necessity and I was running low).  Then I went home and had a nap (walking all day is hard work!), and in the late afternoon I walked around the northern part of the Marais, which I hadn't really seen the previous day.  I saw many churches and old buildings probably too minor to put into any guidebook, bought haggadahs for my grandmother (she collects them), window-shopped, and took pictures.

This morning I woke up decidedly on the wrong side of the bed.  I overslept and so did not have time to run, which was fine since I felt like I had been beaten by several dozen large men in my sleep (I am sore a lot these days, due to walking and carrying things and so forth) but did not make me feel happy.  There was no possibility of proper coffee (I am supposed to be getting a coffee machine, oh, about three days ago, but it has not materialized) and for breakfast I made this horrific oatmeal.  It was horrific because the texture was not what I'm used to (being not instant, it had to be cooked in the milk rather than put into hot liquid, so it was mushy and gross), the taste was bad (it was made with milk, not water, and the awful demi-ecreme milk no less), and in general it was so awful that I hardly ate any, which means I left my apartment hungry.

My destination was the Musee d'Orsay, which is famous for its impressionist paintings.  I arrived shortly after it opened and, since I had a combo ticket from the Orangerie, had to wait in line for only (?) twenty minutes.  However, I discovered after I got inside (somehow, this was not mentioned on the website) that due to renovations, the floor where the impressionist paintings are kept was closed, and most of the paintings were not on display, and the few that were, were stuffed into random rooms distributed all over the confusingly laid-out museum.  Also, it was extremely crowded, to the point of interfering with own's ability to see - much less enjoy - the art.

Still, a lot of that was my grumpiness talking.  Despite the crowds and renovations, I saw many paintings by Monet, Renoir, Degas, Van Gogh, and others.  The decorative arts section of the museum is amazing.  There are also many statues and a substantial pre-impressionist (19th-century) exhibit.  Although I was somewhat disappointed, it was certainly worth a visit.

And then, I came home and slept, for about three hours.  Apparently when I am not drinking coffee and am walking around in the sun all day, I need to get enough sleep.  Also, I have realized that the way I've been conducting this visit, while perhaps appropriate for a weeklong stay, is not well-suited to my month here.  I  have been trying to push against the grain of Paris, and it has led to a lot of frustration.  But this is not New York; it is a city in which many restaurants ask you if you want your drink "sur place or to go" because "to go" is not really a Paris way of doing things.  And I didn't come here to race through the city in an American way. I've done that for a few days, and have seen most of the major neighborhoods and almost all the red-letter tourist attractions (still missing: Louvre, Champs-Elysees and Arc de Triomphe - both of which I saw when I was here a long tie ago - and Versailles).  I think I will be much happier if -  in the past few days, certainly, I have been much happier when - I let go of worries about How Much Have I Done and just fall into the rhythm of being here.