You guys, life is so hard.
I forgot to get my absentee ballot for the primaries and I’m so behind on work and my hands are getting all itchy from all the anti-coronavirus scrubbing I’ve been doing.
Also – OH MY GOSH, ALSO: We got to Edinburgh on Monday and HOLY F-CKING SHIT, ALL THE BUILDINGS ARE SO BIG AND HEAVY HERE, I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO.
ALSO DOUBLE-DECKER BUSSES.
AND GROCERY STORES WITH DRINK AISLES.
We were just walking home from our co-working space and this big honker of a building was giving me the heebie-jeebies so we ducked into the grocery store under the guise of breakfast necessities.
I was standing in the wine aisle and my brain went to that place it goes to when I see one of those trucks that carry all those big water jugs you find in offices, you know what I’m talking about, and I started to breathe all funny so I grabbed a dry white and made a beeline to the register, knocking over small children and screaming “GET OUT OF MY WAY” at an old lady.
The Hot Canadian was confused at first, but then he could see I was serious business about getting the eff out of there, so he ran around like a crazy person to grab the stuff he knew I’d bitch about not having in the morning, while I counted my breaths and waited for the floor to cave in.
I know every time this happens he thinks I'm ridiculous, but he tries to understand, which makes him even hotter.
In the three blocks between the store and our AirBNB, there were two castles each weighing at least as much as North Dakota, and no less than 35 of those monster busses. I soothed myself with the knowledge that all the furniture in our place is from Ikea, and therefore weighs maybe 20 pounds collectively. Also there are only four cups, four plates, four bowls, which means the cabinets are mostly empty and probably won’t fall off the wall.
You think that’s a joke, but a few years ago, an entire wall of cabinets in my old office fell off the wall literally 5 seconds after I walked out of the kitchen. And if you think it’s crazy to be afraid of the ground caving in, just ask anyone who lives in Philadelphia how crazy that is – it’s not crazy at all, it’s seriously not.
Anyways I'm home now, sitting in my cheap Ikea chair, finding a good serial killer documentary to calm my nerves. It's all gonna be fine.