I don’t have a whole lot to say these days. Not much going on over here unless you’d like me to bore the arse off you with the mind numbing details of Swiss health insurance. I tell you it’s painful. If I did have a lot to say I wish I could say it in French. I have completely abandoned the study and, not surprisingly, my French is shockingly poor for someone who’s been living here for almost 2 years. It’s becoming quite embarrassing.
I just can’t seem to get motivated to hunker down and get on with it. Lazy? Overwhelmed by the difficulty of it? Self-defeating rebellion against study due to years spent in classrooms? Oui, all of that. But mostly it’s likely that I romanticized learning a new language.
See how easy it looks? Watch enough of these sweet videos and you can picture yourself becoming an interpreter at the UN in just 5 easy steps. My plan is to enroll in French class once I get to Switzerland. I need structure, imposed discipline, a teacher who will ask to see my homework and frowns on my husband as translator strategy. AHA!! I knew it. Like always, it’s his fault. If he wasn’t such a smartypants I’d be able to parlez-vous with the best of them.
Oh I’m just kidding. It’s nobody’s fault but my own. I take full responsibility for my inactions. And I accept that I fell prey to the romance of the idea of living in a foreign language. There’s nothing remotely charming about verb conjugation and indefinite article usage and it’s much harder than I expected.
So, it’s your job to make me feel better. Tell me something, anything, that you thought would be easy and wasn’t. You’re not allowed to say marriage or bikini waxing. Tell me something I don’t know.