And I didn’t even kill anybody, accidentally

I built a kitchen. I know that’s hardly an excuse for not writing in over a month. Many might assume a person should be able to build a kitchen and still write 500 words weekly to amuse their friends. They would be wrong. A kitchen, as it turns out, sucks up all of one’s time (three visits to Ikea in two weeks), energy (living on the fifth floor is a good idea until one has to carry a stove up four flights of stairs) and emotions (blood sweat and tears without the blood and sweat). Oh the tears, and not even being able to wash them away with a proper meal because the stove is still on the landing, the landlord didn’t provide a sink and I’ve been living off microwave popcorn for a week.

„We“ is of course a misnomer. Max (obliging boyfriend) did pretty much everything, in the very respectable time frame of forever and ever.* I was in charge of motivation. And crying. And the popcorn, of course.

Living in a country teaches you things that you would otherwise never learn spending a few days living in a hostel and visiting its museums (or in Berlin’s case, nightclubs). For example, I’ve learned that it’s legal to rent out an apartment in without providing anything in the kitchen. The landlord provided a ceiling and walls of course, but I’m going to withhold my gratitude. It seems it’s also rather common to rent apartments in Berlin that are heated with coal stoves, but I’ve yet to stoop quite so low.

On the good news front, this woman, choreographer and performer extraordinaire, lives in the flat across from mine.

I’ve built myself a little herb garden on the kitchen’s windowsill, which seemed like a terribly domestically wonderful thing to do until the wind blew my stoneware basil pot off the sill and down all four (European) / five (American) storeys. None of the Turkish drug dealers who hang out below were hurt in the accident, luckily. Strangely enough the plant survived and is now thriving better than it’s unfallen cousin.

Anyhow, the kitchen is built. The new neighbours have been greeted. The basil is growing. The blog is back on and the rest of the microwave popcorn is now where it belongs, in hell.

*This claims may or may not be disputed by someone who has been advised that they can get their own blog should they wish to counter anything written about them on the Internet.


2 Responses

  1. Glad to see you back on the internet! 🙂

  2. It certainly sounds like you had your work cut out for you. But I can hardly wait for Max’s blog to get out so we can hear about his minor, albeit lengthy contribution to the project while you were left to do all that crying and whining.

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