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THE NEWSLETTER THAT OPENS IT'S ARMS TO FEBRUARY
Patricia celebrates the passing of time.
I think I've already mentioned this, but I'll repeat it for the amnesiacs or those (we see you) who read my newsletters on the diagonal. When I was a kid, it seemed to me that January was the longest month in the world.
It's just after the Christmas vacations, with all their presents and gastritis. But now I have to admit that it's passing by at the speed of a solitary pleasure.
In fact, my apprehension has changed so much since my playground days that I almost regret its end. It has to be said that as a kid I was often on my own. Nobody wanted to play with me because I was different.
Today, nothing has really changed, as I continue to play alone on my Switch and drink my pints of Guinness with no one around. I go to the film library alone, to concerts alone and I do my shopping at Felix Potin, alone. I'm on my own too. I go on vacation alone, and come back just as alone.
This never depresses me, and it suits me. After looking around at all the people I could be a couple with, I've come to the conclusion that I'm better served by myself.
