Vienna, Day 1

Honeymooning is a novel concept to me. In my life, I think I’ve only met two or three couples who were enjoying what the Germans call “flitter weeks.” Maybe that’s because I’ve never lived in a scenic locale that’s both memorable and Instagram-worthy (to let my bias out for a walk, my hometown’s beach is one of the nicest in the world. I’d much rather go to Pensacola than Miami, but whatever). I can’t cast stones, though, considering that my honeymoon takes me across the ocean to have my bags checked in Portugal before being delivered to the scenic views of Vienna’s MuseumQuartier.

Dysphoria

Dez is not a morning person. I remind myself of the fact when I feel the urge to ruffle his hair. His snapping turtle role isn’t worth a few moments of happiness. In the end, it’s my feelings that’ll be hurt and Dez who won’t remember what he said, halfheartedly apologizing in his boxers over coffee before I go to work.