Is it because of the increased amounts of sunshine? Or the bliss of the honeymoon phase? Or a new PAID professional activity that has me writing about musical works for a 32-piece washing machine orchestra and getting invitations to movie premieres? Is it reading a classic of self-help literature? Or riding my bike everywhere instead of being squeezed into the Parisian metro at rush hour? Or the anticipation of a Saturday spent speed-sailing and gambling on the beach at Deauville? The promise of working papers at the end of July? Or Christophe, the Napoleon Dynamitish favorite on French Idol? Massage residue from the Coconut Spa experience in the Maldives?

Whatever is happening to me has thrown a wrench into my usual Parisian sourness, making that time of the month a cause for rejoice instead of retreat and depression. Real life has blossomed again and the drudgery of wedding planning and uncertainty seem to have left little trauma on my spirit. And so I welcome myself back into the land of the living.