So greetings once again to you all as you join is for the second half of our French trip. We reconvene in the heart of the most exquisite city in the world.
I had suggested that maybe it would be fun and a unique experience to take a cooking class with the girls. Oh how wrong could I be? It wasn't exactly the gastronomic pleasure I had envisaged. . .
We had arranged to meet at about 6:30 pm, outside of the hotel. I had spent the morning with Kim, separated before lunch and then spent the afternoon with Yolanda at the Notre Dame. We were all acutely aware that there was a significant change in Kim's behavior, but couldn't quite understand what exactly was responsible for the shift. I knew she wasn't drinking, for sure, and I support her a 1000 percent in her struggle with sobriety. But she seemed sleepy, lethargic, rambling, and almost incoherent at times. We waited for her for a substantial amount of time,which in the past had been a bit of a ritual and finally she joined us.
She still seemed not herself so I asked her in my naïveté, as there is such a difficult time change of nine hours, if she had taken a sleeping pill. I am ignorant of the fact, and have since been educated, that if you struggle with one sort of addiction, it is almost as if you slipped if you indulge in some sort of sleep aid. I didn't realize the two were synonymous.