Alert the media...I'm back. Well, a little bit. It took me all of 3 days to become (mentally and physically) sick again. My immune system (read: valve) is the weakest. Ever. And though it sucks to not be able to swallow and have to take fifty million Tylenol, I do believe its a bit of a blessing in disguise. I'm not ready to be back here. Not really. I knew that before I even boarded the plane in BA. It was nice to be quiet, unassuming, never required to make idle conversation (I couldn't). Here even the lady passing you on the sidewalk wants to tell you a story about her waiter. Can't everyone just shut the fuck up? And white noise (overheard chatter, especially from touristas) is the worst. Never have I worn my ipod so much as in the last week. Usually I hate the disconnection of place that it gives me but lately its been my only refuge in the this country (city? no...it's the whole country) of loud ass people (with mindless things to say). I know that the people in BA probably said a lot of ridiculous things too. I'm not denying that. Only there I didn't have to listen. Never underestimate the beauty of a month of silence.
I'm sure I could rant more about how dangerous it feels here, how I'm freaked out every second and there's no public transportation but what's the point? I just need to start saving and get out of here again. I have to quit whining and actually do something for once...Maybe the answer is to quit dipping my toe into the shallow end and just make my way to the diving board, close my eyes and JUMP.
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