reykjavik is a place where my commute involves dodging icicles and my work is just me staring at ghosts

woke up to a sky that looks like a watercolor painting of regret. if you're checking in right now, it's currently 5.97°c but feels more like 4.35-that kind of temp makes you question life choices. woke up in a place where the only thing colder than the air is the locals' judgment when you mention you're not a yoga enthusiast.

someone told me that the geothermal pools here are basically therapy for lost souls. which, honestly? makes sense. went to the local café and the barista asked if i wanted a 'traditional' coffee or the 'bohemian special.' took the bohemian, opened my laptop, and realized my commute involves dodging icicles like i'm in a b-movie about climate change.

if you get bored, iceland's 'neighbors' are just a short flight away, but honestly, i’d rather stare at the walls here than deal with that.

someone told me that the road to the golden circle is basically a dare from the gods. another said the hot springs are overrated. take that with a bag of salt.

clearly, the place loves to keep things interesting. then again, when your wifi drops more than the temperature, you start to wonder if this is some kind of medieval survival test.

truth bomb: the locals whisper that the most expensive apartments are in the us. but who needs that when you can get lost in a labyrinth of lava fields and pretend you're the main character of a northern renaissance painting?

and for the record: never trust anyone who says 'the city comes alive at night.' unless you're into dramatic temperature fluctuations and existential dread.