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My legs are sore and lethargic, I'm sleepy (though I think part of that is genuine sleep and not anemia), I want to sleep yet I also want to stay up and do things like make icons and try to keep my Claude pov fic in character even though it's first person and I've never written him in first person before and I'm not sure I'm doing it right. But I haven't written first person in so long and it's my favorite POV and Temporary Insanity brought it all back. Did I just do another run-on sentence? I keep making those. I should just write a fic like that. I've seen them before.
Ran all over a one square mile area to go to five different Pret's looking for a salmon sandwich. Two were closed, on was sold out, and the other two didn't even have a space for it on their shelves. I could have just asked for them to make me one, but I didn't feel like waiting. I might tomorrow, though. I need the iron.
I think one of the signs that you're settled in a new country is when the money stops looking like play money. Even though I'd been here twice already, the money still looked so colorful and insubstantial when I got here (though, yeah, Mexican money is colorful, too, but I was already used to that one). Now it looks normal. Natural. It's like Dad said. When you move to someplace new, everything feels so strange and unnerving and you don't feel like you fit. Then later it's hard to believe that you felt that way. (Though there's some stuff I'm still getting used to. Incredibly enough, one of them is salsa (the music, not the sauce)).
Ran all over a one square mile area to go to five different Pret's looking for a salmon sandwich. Two were closed, on was sold out, and the other two didn't even have a space for it on their shelves. I could have just asked for them to make me one, but I didn't feel like waiting. I might tomorrow, though. I need the iron.
I think one of the signs that you're settled in a new country is when the money stops looking like play money. Even though I'd been here twice already, the money still looked so colorful and insubstantial when I got here (though, yeah, Mexican money is colorful, too, but I was already used to that one). Now it looks normal. Natural. It's like Dad said. When you move to someplace new, everything feels so strange and unnerving and you don't feel like you fit. Then later it's hard to believe that you felt that way. (Though there's some stuff I'm still getting used to. Incredibly enough, one of them is salsa (the music, not the sauce)).
