Le Moral Dans Les Chaussettes
A friend asked me yesterday how we were doing, and I said “O, c’est la morosité ambiente, c’est la merditude des choses, c’est le moral dans les chaussettes.”
I love the French expression la morosité ambiente. If there were such a word as morosity in English, it would mean the morosity that floats freely in the environment. I guess we’d say moroseness, although it doesn’t have quite the same feel. Anyway, that’s the mood around here as we prepare to move back to the US at the end of the month. Let me just sum it all up by saying that we SO don’t want to go. If I could walk into the Office of Public Tranquility and buy a kilo or two of peace, I’d pay any price.
As for la merditude des choses, sometimes things are just so downright crappy that you want to hide out, can’t do anything but stare into space and wonder how it all got this bad. Shel’s cancer is in a lot of places it shouldn’t be, and they have no treatment for him in France.
And when a French doctor, proud of the French system, suggests that there’s nothing else she can do and that you might be better off in America, you know it’s for real. At least we have an America to go to. What would a French person do under the same circumstances? That would be the real merditude des choses.
So now our vision of the future is murky, and we have le morale dans les chaussettes. Our morale is way down in our socks. And that’s about the best thing I can say about it. But there’s always a light somewhere, and in our case it’s the City of Light. We’ll be leaving here on March 1st, and we’re giving ourselves a couple of days in Paris, a parting gift, before we head out to see what the American medical system has to offer. On croise les doigts, and you keep your fingers crossed too, please.