When I go on vacation (although, to be slightly less than charitable, this is not a vacation), I want to eat. I want to eat things that I can't eat in my Midwestern city, things like fresh fish (though Sam's parents aren't interested in eating fish at all, and thus I'm in Southern California and stuck eating things that are not fish, unless we're talking about tacos, in which case....) and fresh mozz and prosciutto. This also involves eating at restaurants I can't eat at in IL, and one more got added to the list today.
Fatburger.
Oh. My. God. So good. There's no getting around it; now I'd rather eat Fatburger than In-N-Out, which is horrifying to Sam, I know. He's still devoted to his In-N-Out fixes here in CA, even after an ambrosial taste of Fatburger, but that's par for the course. Sam doesn't much like change.
Anyway, tomorrow, there'll be more of the same (and football!)--hopefully one more Wahoo's fish taco fix and who knows what we'll eat for dinner. Leftovers from the Thanksgiving meal we're eating today, possibly.
I am feeling kind of stressed out here, being around tons of people constantly. I just want 30 minutes to be alone with just me. No voices in the background, no...nothing. I don't know how Sam feels about all this (these are all his friends, after all), but I suspect he's not stressed at all by this. Which puts us at loggerheads, actually, because he can't understand how overwhelmed I am, and I can't understand why he's not more understanding. It's stressful. Like I said, definitely NOT a vacation.
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