Y’all, this week was rough. We don’t know about you, but we are struggling.
On Tuesday, Emily was recovering from her second trip (of three) to the west coast in 30 days. For some reason, the three hour time difference feels so much harder to switch between than longer ones to Europe; combined with the late-night landing time early-meeting combo, Tuesday was not a great look for Emily. Frankly it’s preposterous that it takes so long to get across the country. Anyways, after realizing that she’s been to every single airport in the NYC area multiple times in less than three weeks, Emily went over the edge. When Olivia came home and shouted “Welcome home!” she found Emily alone in her room, sitting on the floor on the far side of her bed, wearing old flannel pajamas and surrounded by heaps of laundry and overflowing suitcases. At that point, Emily was able only to utter caveman grunts in between giant bites of lamb shawarma sandwich (from Istanbul Park, of course). “How was your trip!?” Olivia asked. “Arrghfffnngnngoood,” croaked Emily, as she smooshed the giant sandwich to her face. Emily pressed play on the first episode of Divorce; Olivia slowly backed out of the room. After watching the same episode a second time in a row and unpacking, she became verbal again, but she was in a dark was a dark, dark place for a moment.
Then, on Wednesday, Olivia awoke to a scene she didn’t expect. One roommate was casually baking chicken tikka at 7am, and one roommate was attempting to snake our toilet with a clothes hanger he had unraveled, Lifetime Movie-style. Apparently, the toilet had overflowed so bad it was coming out of the ceiling lights of the apartment downstairs! Sorry neighbors (we’re never renting anything but the top floor again). What a mixture of aromas to experience first thing in the morning. When Olivia asked if she could go to the bathroom, all three roommates shouted, “NO!” So, she had to hop on her bike and race to the closest place of business, a dry cleaner, and beg to use their bathroom, which they let her(who knew they had bathrooms!), but it didn’t have a closing door. The good news was that Olivia got to pick up her dry cleaning, which was finally ready.
So, with clothes professionally cleaned and toilets professionally unclogged, Turkish food consumed like a maniac and early morning chicken still confusing everyone, our week has continued with a little less excitement. We’re still counting down the seconds until the weekend — only 87542 seconds left to go.