I am eating a sandwich. On real square sandwich bread. Brown bread.

I appear to have reacquired my Northumbrian inability to cope with heat, which does not bode well, as it is only the beginning of May. Maybe I should stop walking up and down hills in the early afternoon.

It's been an odd couple of days. Strange is back. Meh. Have been assiduously planning my lessons for next week, which I got rather worried about, because I don't know these people and I've never planned a 2-hour lesson before. Also, I was presented with a map of how to find the company, which was very detailed but gave no clue as to what general area of Lyon it was, aside from my boss's helpful remark that it was 'on the way to IKEA'. I met some of my colleagues, who were all nice, particularly the biker guy who told me everyone in the company was lovely, but they're still a little odd in the way that many expats are...

I am also incapable of using the washing machine. You put stuff in the top of the drum and have to close it, which I didn't realise, and I couldn't open it again, resulting in all my clothes being locked inside until my housemates got home. Then, I took my fabulously clean clothes out to discover that my French Connection black linen trousers that make my legs actually look long (I think cos the trousers themselves are too long) had been brutally discoloured by the rather alarmingly magenta top I bought in New York. Grr.

And I didn't get the car breakdown job, as I can't work Tuesdays, which leaves me back... not quite at square one, but maybe two or three (depending on how many steps there are), and my latest potential tutee stood me up. Bastard. After my perilous walk to the park. Literature lesson was fun, and he even showed me where to get second hand books, and this morning sent me an email with various attachments for next time and some job-finding website.

Went out for dinner last night and was so impressed by the flat. It's right in the centre, in a funky old building and has three floors (so I guess not really 'flat') accessed by winding staircases and trapdoors.

If anyone would like to marry me (thus enabling me to wear the absolutely gorgeous dress in one of the many bridal wear shops around where I work) and then move into a funky multi-level appartment with me, I would be very grateful.