Dammit, Amy Poehler

Well, tomorrow's the big day. As long as this Philly snowstorm calms down long enough for a safe landing, I'll be back in the US within 24 hours. 

When I left for London, I thought it'd be a fun little experiment to not bring any of my happy pills. "Yeah, Kyle! You can do this -- go live life in London and just feel all the feels!"

It wasn't easy back in August, but prepping to leave has been even harder, and there's nothing I'd like more than an IV of Zoloft in one arm, and Ambien in the other.

There's a part of me that's like "get me back in a country where you can find buffalo chicken anything", but some goodbyes really haven't been easy. So I thought I'd turn to my good friend Amy Poehler for some advice. 

And then I just cried for like 20 minutes. Dammit Amy. How you gonna do me like that?

Whatever, I'm pretty sure she just promised me a new set of pearls for Christmas. That was super sweet of her.