So tired…

It’s 12:45 am. I’ve been up since 6:30 am. The only mini nap I took today was during the one-man Shakespeare play. And I tried REAL hard to stay awake (I was in the front row and in prime the-actor-can-see-me territory).

The two reasons I’m not asleep and dreaming of candy bars right now is that a) I just moved into a new serviced apartment tonight and had to unpack all of my things and b) I now have internet access and need to watch that new Sarah Silverman/Matt Damon video. And all those Superbowl commercials I missed.
I am totally going to be regretting this tomorrow morning when my alarm goes off.

Today I set a record. I got lost before 9 o’clock in the morning.

Anyone who knows me knows that washing my hands isn’t high on my priority list. While I should be ashamed to admit this, I don’t really think it’s a big deal. But lately I’ve been finding that my hands are a LOT dirtier. After holding on to the poles on the subway and reading the newspapers, by the time I get to work, I don’t want to touch anything without washing my hands for fear of contaminating it. Why are things so much dirtier around here? Why are they making my life difficult and insisting I use soap? Who are the mean British people doing this?!

One of the perks of the proximity between London and Belgium are the waffle stands throughout this city. It’s both cruel and a blessing at the same time. Every morning I walk past this one stand that practically shouts my name yelling, “Lisa!!! Eat me! Buy me and a cup of coffee for 2 pounds and you will be the happiest person alive!” I am proud to admit that I have resisted this urge all 14 days or so that I have walked by. I am embarrassed to say that I don’t think I can hold out much longer. But unlike the roasted nuts carts in Boston, these waffles better taste more delicious than they smell or else there will be hell to pay.

Now I’m going to go pass out.

P.S. My new address is:
42 Princes Square
#234
London W2 4NL

You know, in case you want to send me something awesome.