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7:30 AM. Sunrise, through an incredibly dirty window.

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8:45 AM: Eiffel Tower, sans tourists.

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9:30 AM: After waiting around on the quai for half an hour, Disneyland interviews are underway! Could this be any more picturesque?

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Approximately 9:45 AM: Attend preliminary information session, involving a video full of very enthusiastic Disney employees speaking many different languages. There are hilarious typos in the subtitles.

10 AM: Be the only person in the room who knows that Mickey Mouse was once called Steamboat Willie.


10:01 AM: Win a prize for being a total dork! The guy next to you asks if you’ve worked at Disneyland before. Because obviously only former Disneyland employees have heard of Steamboat Willie.

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10:30 AM: Be herded upstairs, two-by-two, to meet with recruiters. In order to work in a Disneyland hotel, you need to speak three languages, including English and French. You probably need to brush up your German. Ausgezeichnet!

11 AM: Interviews over, eat an apple and spend some time with your new boyfriend.

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11:15 AM: Buy and eat a bambou au chorizo, which is a braided long loaf of bread with sausage baked into it. Feel no guilt.

11:30 AM: Get on the train at École Militaire and spontaneously change your plans. It’s pretty cool to be able to do this, because it means that you’re getting to know the city and the train system quite well. Get off the train at Opéra, switch to the RER and head to Port-Royal for the Saturday farmer’s market. Consider buying fish and stinky cheese, but decide against it. Content self with gorgeous red and yellow peppers, garlic and fresh basil. The inside of your purse now smells decidedly herbal–but at least it doesn’t smell like fish and cheese.

12 PM: Take the bus home.

1:15 PM: Practice. Go to return the practice room key, only to find that the reception desk is closed until 2:10. Chat with the guy who wants to use the music room next, and enter into a conspiracy whereby he reaches through the front desk window, retrieves your driver’s license and replaces it with his own. You give him the key and bid him adieu.

2:30 PM: Blog!

3 PM: Nap.

Bisous,
Anne

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