I put all of my stuff in storage and left Chicago, my friends, my cats and a job I hated to move to Paris with my husband. Once I was there, I spent the first 4 months depressed, feeling purposeless, lost and uninspired. I was unable to make art and even missed the job I had despised. But mostly, I couldn't shake the constant guilt I felt for not enjoying such an amazing city or appreciating our good luck to be there. I felt I was wasting my time doing nothing and afraid to complain to anyone at home, since I was supposed to be on an enviable adventure.