Between traveling for work and typing my little fingers off to finish my book, I’ve found it incredibly challenging to concentrate in recent weeks. Three of my neighborhoods have begun major construction on their apartments which means my bursts of attention are punctuated by drilling, hammering and a handful of other interventions I lack the vocabulary to describe. The news reminds me that the world is dangerous and the American political apparatus is completely malfunctioning and the weather, while gorgeous, is unseasonably warm making the idea of window shopping and strolling through leafy parks a much more appealing idea than sitting at my computer.
In moments like these, I know what I need. A break from routine, time away from my comfortable surroundings and the million-and-one distractions that lay at arm’s reach. So I packed a bag and I went across town to the picture-perfect 7th arrondissement where children skipping home from school in full-bellied laughter would be the loudest sound I’d hear. I stayed in a Paris Perfect apartment rental, a home-away-from-home (only better: it had a giant bathtub!) with to-die-for views and a calm I’m rarely able to fashion for myself in the 11th arrondissement.
At first I thought it…
