These days already don't seem real. Jet-lagged days and nights can feel dream-like, in that perpetually groggy way they often do (for me, anyway). But, when you add weather that has never been more perfect in all the time I have ever spent in Paris, I just keep blinking and then stepping out again, each morning, each afternoon, each evening, and (being the cynical New Yorker that I am) shaking my head in disbelief and saying to myself, "This has GOT to end soon. " Even the Paris newspapers are making note of it in headlines declaring "L'été indien."
On the other, it really does need to (end soon, that is) because I didn't pack summer clothes. That seems to not be a problem if you're not inclined to care about comfort, because many women here apparently always (or already, I'm not sure which) dress for cold weather - multiple layers, scarves, even boots! But there are also those who wear a pair of sandals every chance they get. And the Texan in me really wants to, but my très petit closet has no sandals; nor do les magasins.
No matter, I am fully convinced that once the jet lag completely wears off, so will the utterly incroyable weather.
PS - I'll quit with the scenic (oh-let's-make-them-jealous) views. I just couldn't help myself; this dream, I want to remember for as long as possible.