Montag, 11. Dezember 2017
November and December
durhamfamily, 17:24h
Would you believe it that Max has visited three separate Christmas Markets, and I don’t have one picture to show for it? It’s almost as if I’m lying to you. That’s not impossible. These places sound pretty imaginary – Schwäbisch Gmünd, Schorndorf, and Donzdorf. Schorndorf has the biggest Santa hat I’ve ever seen, at the top of a government building. Max has one more week in Germany, so perhaps I’ll snap a few pictures before he leaves. It’s the perfect opportunity for classy Christmas photos right now. It snowed yesterday, all day long, and it stuck pretty well, which will look nice along with the Advent calendar city building in the background.
As I said, one week in Germany, and then Elizabeth and Max say goodbye. (Forever?) I’m sure this is an extraordinarily emotional time for them. Or not. We’ll never know. The cats, too, are probably pretty bummed, having grown very used to a world without dogs. I don’t look forward to breaking that news to them. I personally have an additional four German-filled weeks, so I’ll save my sadness for later. It’ll drown nicely in Döner.
A moving company is packing up and taking all of our belongings next Monday. For insurance purposes, Elizabeth and I had to count and valuate every piece of whatever we own. The task felt manageable at first (57 T-shirts, 9 dresses…). But then confidence was quickly shattered by the smallest of the junk drawers and its 35 separately recordable items. Next time, it’s all going into the trash. Would’ve happened this time, too, except a German trashcan is the size of a baby backpack and pickup is twice per month. Anyway, our trashcan is already earmarked for cut-up strips of area rug.
Canceling German services is proving to be an impossible task. It's as if Germans are trees rooted to the ground. The worst is GOA (garbage). Elizabeth visited them in person, because their website is worthless, and the lady blew her off with a phone number. That's the exact opposite of customer service. Way to ruin Germany, GOA.
Veterinarians, too. If I end up coming home without any cats, NO ONE IS EVER ALLOWED TO SPEAK OF IT.
I’m not sick—don’t listen to Elizabeth—but I’m not really eating, and I burned through 200+ cough drops last week. Apparently cough drops make you really gassy? I guess? I for one will be relieved to get out of Germany; the new people downstairs smoke constantly, and the cloud hangs out in my apartment and bores a hole in my skull.
I’m skipping the company Christmas party, in typical Kyle fashion. When I originally declined the invitation, I argued that I’d be too busy with the move. But it all turned out for the best, because there’s no way I’m eating in public yet. I doubt they would’ve served me room-temperature, chunkless soup anyway.
Lastly, Max's grandparents were here briefly last week. I awkwardly sat with them at dinner, quiet and not eating. Sorry, you guys!
It’s possible this is my final entry…as short and lame as it is. If so: thank you for exploring European life with me. Writing about my experiences helped make them manageable. Germany is fantastic, and I would recommend it to absolutely anyone, but I cannot wait to be home. This social crap is not who I am.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!
As I said, one week in Germany, and then Elizabeth and Max say goodbye. (Forever?) I’m sure this is an extraordinarily emotional time for them. Or not. We’ll never know. The cats, too, are probably pretty bummed, having grown very used to a world without dogs. I don’t look forward to breaking that news to them. I personally have an additional four German-filled weeks, so I’ll save my sadness for later. It’ll drown nicely in Döner.
A moving company is packing up and taking all of our belongings next Monday. For insurance purposes, Elizabeth and I had to count and valuate every piece of whatever we own. The task felt manageable at first (57 T-shirts, 9 dresses…). But then confidence was quickly shattered by the smallest of the junk drawers and its 35 separately recordable items. Next time, it’s all going into the trash. Would’ve happened this time, too, except a German trashcan is the size of a baby backpack and pickup is twice per month. Anyway, our trashcan is already earmarked for cut-up strips of area rug.
Canceling German services is proving to be an impossible task. It's as if Germans are trees rooted to the ground. The worst is GOA (garbage). Elizabeth visited them in person, because their website is worthless, and the lady blew her off with a phone number. That's the exact opposite of customer service. Way to ruin Germany, GOA.
Veterinarians, too. If I end up coming home without any cats, NO ONE IS EVER ALLOWED TO SPEAK OF IT.
I’m not sick—don’t listen to Elizabeth—but I’m not really eating, and I burned through 200+ cough drops last week. Apparently cough drops make you really gassy? I guess? I for one will be relieved to get out of Germany; the new people downstairs smoke constantly, and the cloud hangs out in my apartment and bores a hole in my skull.
I’m skipping the company Christmas party, in typical Kyle fashion. When I originally declined the invitation, I argued that I’d be too busy with the move. But it all turned out for the best, because there’s no way I’m eating in public yet. I doubt they would’ve served me room-temperature, chunkless soup anyway.
Lastly, Max's grandparents were here briefly last week. I awkwardly sat with them at dinner, quiet and not eating. Sorry, you guys!
It’s possible this is my final entry…as short and lame as it is. If so: thank you for exploring European life with me. Writing about my experiences helped make them manageable. Germany is fantastic, and I would recommend it to absolutely anyone, but I cannot wait to be home. This social crap is not who I am.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!
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