It is light these days by the time my alarm phone goes off at 6:10 a.m. during the week. I can look out the window in the five o'clock hour and tell that the time for getting up is nearing. It is delicious to wake up at 7 a.m. on Sunday, see the light, roll over, and go back to sleep. It will, unfortunately, make it hard to sleep tonight when I have to go to bed early in anticipation of work.
We went out on Friday night, my friend S. from college and my friend E. from bar class and her friend E2 from high school. E2 got back two months ago from two years in Tanzania and Kenya and was craving the post-Africa therapy that is required during reverse culture shock. We spent much of the evening over artichoke dip and steak fries talking about long-delayed stand-up bus rides and aggressive prostitutes in Nairobi nightclubs and THE BEST JUICE EVER, fresh passion fruit juice at Java House (highly addicting). It might possibly have been incredibly boring for S. and E., who have not recently returned from Africa and do not need the reverse culture shock talk therapy. I'm actually less in need of the reverse culture shock talk therapy in recent years than I used to be, just because I've come and gone so many times (except for the part where I go on those rants about HOW MISERABLE EVERYTHING WAS IN SOUTHERN SUDAN EXCEPT THAT OF COURSE I WOULD GO BACK, which I do periodically, sorry to all who've had to listen to one), but that doesn't mean I'm not willing and eager to be a part of the reverse culture shock talk therapy. Yes! Who doesn't want to tell stories about getting pulled over 6 times in five weeks by Liberian police because the car I was driving didn't have a license plate, including the one time they told me I was under arrest and I got angry and started yelling and told them that I had a car and they didn't and how exactly did they expect to get me to the police station under those circumstances, huh?
It's a way better story than the current one about how one of my bank accounts has $39 in it and the other is in the red and people keep saying, "This is why you have credit cards," except that I don't have a credit card and I'm glad I don't have one because then my whole paycheck would be done by the time I got it so I'll just be scavenging food from friends for the next four days until the paycheck shows up. The paycheck which will promptly be used to pay back and close out the overdrawn bank account so I will still be broke ergh how did this happen I have not overdrawn a bank account since college and I even called to find out my balance stupid delay in recording uses of the debit card.
Well. That story is not so fun. Bring on the Africa tales!
We went out on Friday night, my friend S. from college and my friend E. from bar class and her friend E2 from high school. E2 got back two months ago from two years in Tanzania and Kenya and was craving the post-Africa therapy that is required during reverse culture shock. We spent much of the evening over artichoke dip and steak fries talking about long-delayed stand-up bus rides and aggressive prostitutes in Nairobi nightclubs and THE BEST JUICE EVER, fresh passion fruit juice at Java House (highly addicting). It might possibly have been incredibly boring for S. and E., who have not recently returned from Africa and do not need the reverse culture shock talk therapy. I'm actually less in need of the reverse culture shock talk therapy in recent years than I used to be, just because I've come and gone so many times (except for the part where I go on those rants about HOW MISERABLE EVERYTHING WAS IN SOUTHERN SUDAN EXCEPT THAT OF COURSE I WOULD GO BACK, which I do periodically, sorry to all who've had to listen to one), but that doesn't mean I'm not willing and eager to be a part of the reverse culture shock talk therapy. Yes! Who doesn't want to tell stories about getting pulled over 6 times in five weeks by Liberian police because the car I was driving didn't have a license plate, including the one time they told me I was under arrest and I got angry and started yelling and told them that I had a car and they didn't and how exactly did they expect to get me to the police station under those circumstances, huh?
It's a way better story than the current one about how one of my bank accounts has $39 in it and the other is in the red and people keep saying, "This is why you have credit cards," except that I don't have a credit card and I'm glad I don't have one because then my whole paycheck would be done by the time I got it so I'll just be scavenging food from friends for the next four days until the paycheck shows up. The paycheck which will promptly be used to pay back and close out the overdrawn bank account so I will still be broke ergh how did this happen I have not overdrawn a bank account since college and I even called to find out my balance stupid delay in recording uses of the debit card.
Well. That story is not so fun. Bring on the Africa tales!
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