The Indefinite

Just one week, filled with weißbier, alp skiing, and wurst, one week book-ended by the cheap döner kebab place around the corner. How do you begin to measure such a week? I wouldn't know where to begin, but certainly we can't measure in beer or euros because that might be a little too real for me. I suppose if we factored it by the month I spent traveling here and the year of hair I sacrificed to stay, this week might just have been as immaculate and immeasurable as it now seems in hindsight.

At the moment life here feels improbable. Though, that was precisely the ambition I fostered to find myself here at all: to wake up each day a resident in a country so far from what I've known. With each grocery store purchase, endeavoring to guess which yogurts are yogurts and why there are so many gross smelling detergents, I settle a little closer to home. As surreal as the last week has surely been, nothing is nearly so as the thought of existing here indefinitely. Either way, word has it the Christmas rush might sink my floating feel awful quick.