"Tha fuhhk...?"

...I say out loud to myself when the train passes a farm on the English countryside flying a Confederate flag. Ugh   

Tues 1130am

I feel like I've been awake for a day and a half. Because I've been awake for about a day and a half. 

Last night, feeling the itch of addiction, I decide to start the next episode of 13 Reasons

train toilet pics

Why so I can watch as I get ready for bed. It's already past midnight and I've set my alarm for 630, but what am I going to do, brush my teeth in silence? 

I lay down with my lover and expect him to lull me to sleep. Nope. One episode autoplays into two... I try to turn off the world and really put all my attention on sleeping. Nope. Then I remember: the Earl Grey tea. Whimper. 

Lots of people think my caffeine sensitivity is bullshit. I would too. But I had a pot of tea at 530pm which means I will lay in bed wide awake until at least 630 or 7am. I can't take a sleeping pill because I'm catching a train to Edinburgh in the morning and I'm sketchy at best on how to get to the train station. I don't want to chance being a zombie so I lay in bed for all of five minutes before I pull my Netflix back up. I finish 13 Reasons Why at 6am. (It's not perfect, but it's visceral, heartbreaking, sensitive and fun. Highly recommend.) Do I ever get tired? Not even close. 

train view

I take my time getting ready and give myself and hour and fifteen minutes to make the 30 min trip to King's Cross station. Even taking morning rush hour into account, I think I've given myself plenty of time to make it to my train by 9am. You know where this is heading, right?

Spoiler alert: I make my train. With five minutes to spare. But not before I second guess my train choice (wrongly), haul Roly Poly up and down and around stairs and platforms, and pour myself in between morning commuters. I could have lifted my feet and the pressure of their bodies would have supported me upright, bless their hearts. 

As if we aren't uncomfortable enough, a homeless poet named Darren slides himself through us. It's sounds nicer than it was. Darren had something going on in his head that made him repeat himself incessantly. His message was nice ("My name is Darren, let's break down divisions, we're in this together, do you have a quid...") but he kept circling back to the name spot - my immediate vicinity - like a goldfish who forgot I'd already given him my orange. He didn't smell great, but he could have smelled worse, and the whole episode, on top of me staring at the clock willing time to slow down so I didn't miss my train, made my anxiety skyrocket into a tickling of motion sickness. I heard the gentleman praying under his breath, "comeoncomeoncomeoncomeon." Yeah. 

train view, too

I collapse into my train seat, a cold, clammy sweat hog. As the train departs the station I snuggle against the window and pass out dead- WHUP! Minutes later I bolt back awake as a train passing us causes the wind to create this weird force field air pocket thing that could be mistaken for the train hitting a wall. I wake up like this a few times, petrified. I'm so tired I want to cry. Instead I curl into a ball, burrow myself into my seat, and finally fall all the way asleep.

An hour and a half later I'm wide awake. Because thanks to the last 24 hours, I'm now back on Texas time. Awesome. 

view from my bedroom

9p

living room

Edinburgh is cold and beautiful. There are gorgeous buildings everywhere. I don't know what anything is yet, but it all looks important and old. My Air BnB is in New Town and is basically one of those college apartments made for lots of roommates to share a living room & kitchen. 

Kris, Susana & Suzanne were nice enough to hook me up with their sister-in-law Cathy, and she and I meet for dinner. (Pizza. It's been a gnawing craving.) After dinner we go to a gallery show at The Scottish Gallery, the oldest art gallery in Edinburgh, because Cathy is an artist. Cathy's friend Kate, an artist who the gallery will be featuring during the Edinburgh Festival, tells me, "This is probably actually all of Edinburgh's high society in this room, so..." and she, Cathy and I kind of shrug. The art ranges from wood things I don't at all care about to these industrial concrete and glass sculptures that make me pant. I am mentally art challenged so it's cool to walk through the show with an artist and get her perspective on the pieces. 

kitchen

My walk home is freezing and windy. On my way, I recognize the parking lot of trucks and trailers that come with a movie shoot and discover I've stumbled upon Avengers 3. Apparently they've been shooting here a while are going to blow stuff up in a few days. I'm told Edinburgh is notified via the news ahead of time so they won't think they're the victims of a terrorist attack. I think this is depressing and funny.

Let's see if I can sleep tonight.

Edinburgh Castle. See? Old and important.