In Paris

So I'm in Paris. I think it's great, wow, people would kill to come and live here, oh oh oh, beautiful, love, peace, music, coffee, etc. and I'm in bed all the time. Anxiety's keeping it really hard lately. Shit, what a bad luck!
I feel so uneasy. I'd love to do so many things, go out for a run, drink coffee somewhere, go to the museum, but it seems just fucking impossible now. Shit shit shit, come on, Paris, one month, have to find an apartment for the next year, have to take care of all of the administrative stuff (I'm moving here soon), I have to go to the uni to get my student card and millions of other things, OMG, how am I going to do that? Well, probably at the last second I'll motivate myself with panic and everything will go fine. But for Christ's sake, why can't I do it like normal people?
Ok, so.

(Still in bed, pulling out my hair, did I mention I got trichotillomania as well?)

It's soooo sooooo boring and soooo soooo tiring. I'm really fed up with that stuff.
Anyways, I'm in Paris, and apart from that in bed all the time, it's fucking awesome.

Peace.
J.