Friday 20 April 2018

There's no place like Rome.

It's Friday, it's National Lima Bean Respect Day, and it's a day when we're watching the new Chef's Table season on Netflix so I don't have time to write. YEESH, people. Can't you see how busy I am watching pretentious food critic ladies gatekeeping proper gelato?

I know, right?

(Fun fact: Eight years ago when we moved here we went for a walk in Coal Harbour and stopped to get the kids some ice cream. The two tiny cones were $16 and the shop had a tip jar. My tip was to charge less, though in actuality I think I put a quarter in the jar, because I'm only sort-of an asshole.

That was my first inkling that I wasn't in Kansas anymore.)

I almost wrote 'canvas' right there. I'm not caffeinated today. We did go out for brunch yesterday and Ben was pretty sure that along with forgetting his hash browns the server also forgot my decaf and probably gave me regular coffee. I could have run beside the truck to get home. I didn't fall asleep until four this morning. And still no one will let me near the coffee machine. Or outside so I can go to someone else's house and get some.

But yes! We're not in canvas anymore. We are in scratchy modal t-shirts though, which is too much fake for my poor skin which only seems to like boy flesh or organic cotton these days and everything else gives me hives again. So I'm hibernating with Netflix and nakedness in my room, just to try and ease the discomfort. I wouldn't notice it as much if I were distracted by my own energy levels but I'm not in charge here. This lady who demands we fly to Italy for the best gelato is, apparently.