I like the word cumulonimbus.

I think that's the first time I've typed cumulonimbus in my life.  Now I've done it twice!

It's a slow, gray evening.  I watched snowflakes tumble onto the earliest spring flowers this morning, and then observed the slow drumming of the chill rain upon the still-salty sidewalks.  I worked as usual, but Caspian was at home, nursing a sore throat.  I worked, worked out, worked more, read, napped, worked, drank gallons of Moroccan mint green tea (Caspian kept it coming), washed dishes, and listened to songs originating in warmer climes.

You know, it's really hard to begin something new that's huge and shapeless and daunting.  Like learning a language.  I've read articles about people who have taught themselves fluent, Tokyo-standard Japanese without setting foot in a classroom.  It's like looking through a storm through a window and drawing dry-erase diagrams of it upon the panes.  Even if I impose rules and definitions and outlines over my giant cumulonimbus (third) of a task, it's still back there, looming as it laughs at my little bullet points.

I want to learn French.  Like really, devotedly learn it, not piddle around in it.  I sit here telling myself that I could learn French myself; after all, I live in a predominately French-speaking province.  My lexicon automatically expands whenever I walk outside.  My dance partner's Parisian accent has graced movie screens.  I have identified massive quantities of online information and resources to fuel my journey, from podcasts to coursework.  Caspian would spout beautiful singer's French at me all day if I asked him to.  But from the deepest recesses of my brain comes a little voice that whispers, "You won't learn it unless you go to school for it."  This little voice is holding me back.

Caspian and I have discussed and discussed, and my daydream of attending McGill's intensive French certificate program is a likely possibility, but not until next spring, after we have established ourselves a little bit more firmly.  I was accepted into the program for this fall; all I have to do is pay tuition.  In one year, via self-study, I think it's possible to skip two levels (and a semester of tuition)...  If I could get off my ass.

Maybe if I set out all of my French books on my desk?  Maybe draw cute, compelling faces on them with a sharpie?