9:50
Annoyingly I’ve gotten into the habit of going to bed late and waking up late. I don’t need to be anywhere these days so it’s not a big deal – in fact it’s a huge privilege to be able to structure my days freely at the moment. Before I came to Paris I was working as a baker for a couple of years. Making bread is magic, but the early shifts meant that much of my free time was spent feeling sleepy, being asleep, or thinking about sleep.
This is probably why my mornings are especially precious now and why I get a bit annoyed when I wake up late like today for no reason. I have no deadline though and get ready to treat myself to a nice pain aux raisins from my fave bakery of the area. I’m good to go, teeth brushed and shoes on, when I suddenly remember the Bircher Müsli that I prepared yesterday, so I take the shoes off again and stay in. I layer some fancy yoghurt, a blob of homemade apricot jam and a mount of Bircher in a small bowl. It’s not a very pretty meal and I just eat it quickly without paying much attention. Then I brew a Brazilian coffee that fills the studio with a rich and chocolatey smell.
My bench is already taken when I get to the yard with my book and my coffee. I try not to show my disappointment and find another bench. I pick up the text where I left it on Monday but struggle to get through the next paragraphs. It’s just not a good reading spot and the sun is too hot.
12:12
Still got text and coffee left but someone starts practising piano and that’s my focus entirely gone. I decide to walk to the bakery now for the pain aux raisins as a belated Elevenses. I take a slow detour, it’s really hot and I have to do shade hopping. On the Île Saint-Louis are a few quiet roads that feel like countryside and smell like lavender and soap, and busier corners with bistros and an aroma of cigarettes and mustard vinaigrette.
I buy one pain aux raisins and one baguette for later, the baguette is still very hot. That means they must be baking off batches throughout the day, and I wonder what their process looks like and how they keep track of proofing times. In the room behind the counter is the production area. I can see bakers doing familiar tasks and get a tiny nostalgia pang.
Back at home I use the microwave for the first time to re-heat this morning’s leftover coffee. My parents do that all the time but I usually don’t have leftover coffee and also usually don’t have a microwave. I’m not a fan of microwaves in general (except as an opportunity to re-watch this) but will probably need to befriend this one at some point as there’s no oven in this kitchen.
The pain aux raisins is challenging to pronounce correctly, too, but worth the struggle. It’s perfectly crispy and soft, with the filling of crème pât and soggy raisins evenly distributed across the whole piece of pastry. I eat off a small Paris-themed plate that my mum sent me and get to take a closer look as the shrinking pastry reveals more and more of it. It’s not surprising that the plate has a small Eiffel Tower on it, but irritatingly there’s also a tiny plate depicting another tiny Eiffel Tower on it which is very meta.
15:50
It’s still very hot outside, I don’t feel like cooking or eating a warm meal. I eat the spiky end of the baguette while I contemplate what else to eat. I make a quick baguette sandwich with tomato and mozzarella and eat it on the bed.
20:15
A ginger beer with a few other residents in the yard on "my" picnic bench. I wonder how many other people have developed territorial feelings about this piece of wood too.
21:00
I see an e-mail about yesterday’s application that needs revising. I stress-eat 3 Kinder choc bars and a large handful of Haribo Schtroumpfs. That’s the French name for Smurfs, it’s Schlümpfe in German in case you were wondering. But I’m confused because Schlümpfe Haribos are really chewy in Germany, like the Giant Strawbs or other veggie ones, but these are really jiggly and soft. I know that countries have their own special Haribo types but I’ve never come across a variety that’s actually the same name and look as elsewhere but a different recipe. I’ve already noticed that France isn’t too keen on the veggie Haribo range in general though, which is a shame because they're my favourite in the UK (especially the Sour Sparks). I know what I’m talking about because I grew up in the city where Haribo is from.
23:20
Water and the last piece of baguette, it’s already starting to get dry. I feel a bit uncomfortable after all the sweets and drink a cup of hot water. Once I finish this text I’ll take my magnesium too.
Eleni Wittbrodt (she/her) is a German visual artist based in Glasgow. @wttbrdt