Sydney is my hero. The end.

So roughly a month ago Sydney responded to my anguished cries for peanut butter, but accidentally wrote the wrong postal code. The French postal service needed roughly three weeks to figure out what she meant to say, and then wouldn't let me have my package until I gave them my passport. Jerks.

WORTH THE WAIT.

Yup, you saw correctly. I have an apple, a spoon, and a jar of peanut butter. That's a wrap.

I think I'll just eat this for the next week. Or until it's gone.