It’s been less than 24 hours in Yankee town, and I think we’re doing alright at acclimating to “wicked ahwesome” city life.
I ate brunch in a pub at the bar next to a smoker puffing on his cigarette and ordered a cup of coffee in hopes that the server would repeat it back to me in a Bostonian accent.
“Would ya like cweam in ya cahffee?”
I would have fit in well here when I was 6 and couldn’t say my “Rs” properly.
Our temporary housing for the week is a small apartment above a tiny foot salon (is that even a thing?). Complete with a door buzzer, two flights of stairs, no central AC, and a Belgium waffle shop next door, it feels like the real deal.
But what do I know? I’m just a poser at this point.
Cambridge is beautiful. Old and historic, it leaves you in awe as you look around and realize how many influential men and women have studied here…lived here. Presidents, leaders, world changers, Elle Woods. It’s incredible.
I think my IQ rises slightly each time I breathe in the air.
We feel really blessed to be here yet at the same time keep thinking what are we doing?…