Since setting foot in London, I’ve been having the most vivid dreams, which is weird because I’m pretty sure all of summer was just a grey mass of dreamless sleep and really awful summer blockbusters (besides HP, duh). I’ve already had a dream that I met Nicki Minaj at a pub, where she gave me the best Facebook profile picture of my life and took me on a cruise to the Caribbean.

I think the first night, I had a dream that I became a Chief Executive at an insurance company and found all my employees hanging themselves over their cubicles. I put apples in their mouths. I am an asshole dreamer.

Oh and then there was the dream where I took the tube to the 18th century and taught Jane Austen everything I know and love about Korean barbecue. I don’t even know if that time period is historically accurate.

So I’ve come to learn that everything is overstimulating here and I don’t sleep ever, nor do I eat. But I’ve never had more fun in the midst of starvation and sleep deprivation. Its kind of a phenomenon.