I’ve arrived here in London at my relatives house, my first visit since 2000, for which I blame graduate school. They’re still great and hilarious and I’m glad to have them in my family. Tomorrow is the only real city day I get this week, as I’m leaving for Holland on Thursday to visit with friends from graduate school. I’m going to hit up some museums, which thanks to socialism are all free, and wander around some in the foul weather they have a patent on here.

In case you can’t see a timestamp, it’s the middle of the night and I’m jetlagged. In an effort to stay awake after arriving in the mid-morning, I had my cousin drag me to town to run errands, one of which was a stop at the Argos store. By way of explanation, Argos is a retailer more famous for their catalog than anything else, and as a result their storefront is a lobby with lots of these catalogs bolted to the walls, some cashiers and a pickup window. That’s it. They cut out all the displays entirely. So you pick out what you like, pay for it, then wait in this area (comprised of a bunch of chairs in the middle of the store) where you watch a rectangle with your order number on a TV navigate the cryptic queue algorithm to figure out when your space heater will be ready. If this isn’t a dystopian future already, I’m not sure what is. Again, that much better when you can barely keep your head upright.

Ideally, something more interesting to see tomorrow. I’m going to go back to bed and stare at the ceiling for another four hours.