Culture shock is hitting me. Hard.
I'm sick, and my body is not adjusting well to the changes here at all. The crumpets were too doughy. The peanut butter isn't sweet. The air is too humid, and my hair doesn't react well in the rain. I'll be freezing one second, and then sweating the next. The streets are too confusing. My heels get caught in the cobblestone streets. My room is about a billion degrees (Celsius, which I will never get used to). The faucets in the sink have separate cold and hot faucets, so warm in-between water is impossible. The showers are difficult to operate. The oven dial has no numbers. The grapes don't even have flavor. Nobody smiles. I hate walking around clutching my bag in fear of pickpocketing. I hate never being at a comfortable temperature. I hate feeling lost. I've been going 12-24 hours in-between meals: I wanted to lose weight here, but I didn't want to drop a pants size in a week. I have to do a phone interview for my internship in Milan, but I don't have my American cellphone and I don't know how I'm supposed to do this. I hate that I can't just talk to my mom whenever I feel like it.
Those are my current complaints. On a brighter note (if something can be brighter on such a dreary London day), we went to the British Museum today which was absolutely incredible. My inner nerd was thrilled. I want to see so much more of it, but it's a free museum and we all decided we'd like to make another trip back there sometime.
In the tube station, I heard a musician playing, "Hallelujah," which I think originally is a Jeff Buckley song but I know the Rufus Wainwright version. It was beautiful.