Going to the bathroom in a train station without cramming my bag in with me.
Australian coffee.
Hugs. Literally, just platonic friend contact in general. It's so weird to go this long without actually touching anyone.
Trees. Romania helps with this. It's very tree friendly.
The cold. Seriously. I like summer. I like a nice 27 degree hot day. Give me 27 degrees. 25, honestly, would be better. This 37 degree thing? I can't handle.
And I really just want to wear a scarf.
My bed (this is kind of a lie, I knew I'd miss it). Also in this category is my cat.
Uni. Shocking.
Drinking. I barely drink while travelling, which is suprising, when one thinks of backpacking culture. It's cheaper, but mostly, I miss drinking with my friends, I miss sitting aroudn eating cheese and olives and having a glass of wine. It doesn't quite cut it over here.
The drama of my friend's everyday lives. I get the cliffnotes versions while I'm on the move and I'm missing the entire novel.
Making money. Watching it drain away is a terrible terrible thing.
The ocean. It's been two weeks again. Too long. And I'm staring down another two weeks before I see it again.
Real sand. None of this European pebbly rock, thank you.
Ironed clothes.
My clothes in general. Have been wearing the same two shirts for five days.
Nice kitchens. With measuring cups. With sharp knives. With mixing bowls. With glasses. With forks.
Normal milk.
Australian coffee.
Hugs. Literally, just platonic friend contact in general. It's so weird to go this long without actually touching anyone.
Trees. Romania helps with this. It's very tree friendly.
The cold. Seriously. I like summer. I like a nice 27 degree hot day. Give me 27 degrees. 25, honestly, would be better. This 37 degree thing? I can't handle.
And I really just want to wear a scarf.
My bed (this is kind of a lie, I knew I'd miss it). Also in this category is my cat.
Uni. Shocking.
Drinking. I barely drink while travelling, which is suprising, when one thinks of backpacking culture. It's cheaper, but mostly, I miss drinking with my friends, I miss sitting aroudn eating cheese and olives and having a glass of wine. It doesn't quite cut it over here.
The drama of my friend's everyday lives. I get the cliffnotes versions while I'm on the move and I'm missing the entire novel.
Making money. Watching it drain away is a terrible terrible thing.
The ocean. It's been two weeks again. Too long. And I'm staring down another two weeks before I see it again.
Real sand. None of this European pebbly rock, thank you.
Ironed clothes.
My clothes in general. Have been wearing the same two shirts for five days.
Nice kitchens. With measuring cups. With sharp knives. With mixing bowls. With glasses. With forks.
Normal milk.
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