I have been waiting for the effect of the four weed gummies I took a few hours ago.
So far, I am not feeling anything — well, anything fun. I only feel tired and have body aches.
I am dreading the 24-hour journey tomorrow to the Down Under*.
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Today we went to Albert Cuyp Market. That’s where we got (more than those) four gummies from. In a transparent, round container. For twenty Euro**.
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In the parallel Universe, I’d stay in the De Pijp neighbourhood. in one of those iconic Amsterdam houses.
I’d be working from home, and I’d be like a cool website builder. I’d have more tattoos, pink-striped hair and a black cat. I’d have travel writing and occasionally photography gigs.
Maybe I’d even host zine-making events on some weekends — for fun. On other weekends when we are in Amsterdam, I’d cook Indonesian Indian fusion cuisine for my Dutch friends.
I’d be married to Fafa, who, in this parallel life, ended up in some Scandi country (the man loves cold), where we met and moved here for me. For us.
Our place would be within walking distance of Albert Cuyp Market, but I’d cycle there — because Amsterdam.
And in that parallel Universe, I’d walk to the bakery next door for my caffeine fix (my go-to drink would be Cortado) after typing this. Instead of packing and planning the logistics of crossing multiple continents and running through various airports to reach home — the current Universe home.
* I am allowed to call it Down Under because I live in Down Under, and I have travelled back and forth to grasp my dream life. Occasionally. Expensively.
** If you think that’s absurd, wait until I tell you when I paid EU20 for a cracker with Beluga caviar topping.
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