2006-10-27 - 7:52 p.m.

This morning I dropped our recent guest off at the airport….at 4:30 am….and drove home. Having not quite gone to bed yet (unless you count the two hours of doze/wake), I was quite exhausted and very excited to get back home to curl up in my vacant bed (Eric is in Germany) and sleep. However, about five minutes into the return home, I found myself slowing way down, BELOW the speed limit even, because I was so enjoying that 4:30 am drive. It’s funny how I forgot how much I like that drive. Loud music, empty highway, no distractions...It was a happy drive home.

Not such a happy sleep though…I ended up not being able to fall asleep until about 8 in the morning and of course, that is an hour after the construction fucks start pounding away at the house across the street…so even though I was asleep it was interrupted sleep and I will be so happy when they finish that house finally. Seven months now. Can’t you build a house a few times over in seven months?

Anyway…having a guest like Joe around was very nice. He was a perfect guest…he even brought his garbage down from his bathroom this morning. He was a perfect guest because you barely knew he was here and he did things like take the garbage to the curb without bothering with the, “Would you like me to take the garbage to the curb?” crap. Yesterday when I woke up Joe had already left for Barcelona and had done the dishes and taken the garbage with him. Just like he lived here. I appreciate that. Also…he was completely independent. All Eric had to do was point him in the vague direction of the train station (okay, so he actually went on the train with him the first day) and for two weeks Joe just came and went. He saw the sites, figured out the bus system (which is, of course, way easier than I had thought it to be and now I feel stupid for having sat around for two years bemoaning the fact that I was rather immobile) and had lots of crushes on lots of cute Spanish bartender girls.

Since we moved here I had been waiting for Joe to come and visit because I thought he would be a good person to explore the city with. Eric and I don’t do so well with it because we live here and you know we can always “go next weekend”. I knew Joe would be the type to see everything. And he was. Unfortunately I never managed to make it to the city with him for even one day. (because because because) And now I sit here kind of stunned that the two and a half weeks are already over and I can’t figure out where the time went (I think most of it went into stressing out about my cat who still can’t eat without choking) and I feel like a big moron for wasting the chance for city exploration YET AGAIN.

So, in my typical pattern, I spent most of the day today making lists of places I want to see and things I want to accomplish and I started plotting it all out…like, ‘Monday I will take the bus to Sitges, get the train, wander around Passeig Gracia and find a language school and then I will go to the Picasso museum and then come home.’ And then, in my typical pattern, I stressed about something stupid and somehow created the idea that that plan would be impossible…that stupid thing I decided to stress about? Water. I drink a lot of water and I go to the bathroom a lot. All that bus/train/wander/return crap isn’t conducive to water drinking.

I hate my typical patterns. I need to go to bed now and wake up and start all over again tomorrow.


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