Sunny Sunday in Paris

Buon giorno, or should I say "bonjour",
According to the international forecast, it is a sunny Sunday in Paris. Oh Paris, what a wonderful day we would be spending together if there wasn't an ocean between us! I think I'd start the day with mass at Notre Dame Cathedral, followed by a long and steamy cafe enjoyed roadside while perusing the morning paper. From there, a quick change of shoes from stilettos to flats as we make our way to the flea market in search of all things beautiful. By the time we're finished lugging my new armoire up three flights of stairs to my Eiffel Tower view flat, we are exhausted and ready for a nap. Unfortunately, all efforts to sleep prove futile as thoughts of storing my vintage french linens in the weather-worn country french seafoam green armoire are monopolizing any intention of rest. I surrender. I have no choice but to begin this, yet another, Paris apartment project. But what to do about the zebra-striped chairs we left behind like two lost orphans at the flea market? Dare we break into the "don't want to eat cat food at retirement fund" and indulge once again, to impulse shopping? Why worry about what's on the menu at retirement is what I say! So what if I end up eating cat food in my old age, at least I'll have a gorgeous armoire to store it in - that and my vintage Chanel suits and stiletto collection!
My darling Paris, it seems my daydream is being interrupted by the call of the dear husband, in search of socks and clean underwear. A far cry from our dreamy afternoon together. Not to worry Paris. The days until we meet are fast approaching. In the meantime, and rather sadly, I must return to my reality and the "laundry situation". Au revoir Paris. A la prochaine.