(I included my favorites)
Will is in the United States for Obama's inauguration..and Troy went to Barcelona today. He is coming back sometime tomorrow..so that leaves me unable to go back to Granada or travel anywhere really. Thus...I am all alone in my flat for the weekend. I don't know if i've ever really been all by myself before. I think it is different when you are at your home. You feel more comfortable--maybe almost liberated by the solitude. However, I am trying to figure out how i'm going to pass the time.
My simple to do list:
Mop the floors (a huge undertaking b/c the whole flat is marble tile)
Do a load of laundry (if the rain would ever stop...)
Practice Spanish
Buy a bathroom rug
Buy some simple decorations for my room
Cook something relatively tasty..
Maybe make guacamole?
I am looking at this weekend as an adventure. Maybe i'm unique in that I really don't like to be all by myself, some people relish solitude. I envy them. That was part of the reason I decided to come to Spain--I knew it would force me to confront silence..confront solitude...confront myself. My students were asking me what made me decide to come here--and I didn't have an answer. I am still not exactly sure why I wanted to do this. That probably sounds crazy. I really did this on a whim, and my life is rarely characterized by spontaneity. I told them it was to become more independent and grow as a person. I feel that in order to grow, to change, to become a better version of ourselves we must push ourselves outside of our comfort zones, into new territory.
Small note, do you ever have those moments where everything turns chaotic in a matter of seconds? You snap at yourself, wishing you would have just taken one more second, slowed down, and you could've avoided a haphazard disaster? Mine occurred last night. I was allocating a portion of my desk to paint my nails while watching "The Holiday"--I had my oil diffuser going at the corner of my desk next to where I had set down the nailpolish. Before I knew what was happening, the oil diffuser fell over, sending the nailpolish bottle crashing to the floor in an explosion of pink. I picked up the remnants of the shattered bottle which left my hands COVERED in nailpolish. I was so pissed. Instead of having a relaxing 15 minutes, I was cleaning the floor and my hands for an hour with nailpolish remover--overwhelmed by the smell of acetone. Typical moment, and all the while I knew I could only blame myself.
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