83: Hermit Summer: A Sweaty Survival Story

Okay party people, it's been a hot fucking minute. Literally. I'm finally back with proof of life and holy shit, these past five months have been an absolute rollercoaster. Between melting into a puddle every time I stepped outside, becoming a hermit with Archie in my AC-dependent bedroom cave, and stress-eating over whether I could communicate "ovarian cyst" in Italian, summer in Florence was not the romantic European dream I sold myself. But spoiler alert: I had the best gynecological appointment of my life, paid less than my monthly US insurance premium, and left with zero surprise bills in the mail.

The lifestyle here is phenomenal even when it's hard as fuck, and I'd be lying if I said I haven't questioned this move a few times. But between friends visiting at the perfect 90-day mark, making new connections at supper clubs, and averaging 6,500 steps a day without even trying, I think I made the right call. Coming up in the next few weeks: Sex and the City Florence edition, the vulnerable shit about starting over, what it's like navigating fatphobia in Italy, and apparently re-working through middle school trauma because that's fun. Send me your questions about literally anything (dating, Archie, making friends in your late 30s, logistical chaos). I'm here for all of it.

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