This hangover is no joke. I’m still feeling relieved from volunteering off of that work project, but maybe letting off this much steam wasn’t smart. Isn’t there some rule about mixing different color liquors?
I know it’s my fault that I am running late for my Spanish lesson, but it doesn’t detract from how big of a jerk my taxi driver is, leaving me on the verge of tears as I walk into the hair salon classroom. It’s official. My teacher definitely thinks I’m insane and emotionally unstable.
The rest of the day I try to recall the events from last night…and boy oh boy, were there events. Probably the most entertaining was my ride home. As we slowly climbed my hill, periodically stopping so he could try and explain that he wanted to take me out to dinner, I immediately jumped out of the car when we approached my building. I ran into my security guards’ box yelling “no me gusta, no me gusta.” This is now the security guard that knows my name, so at least there’s that. What is it with me and taxi drivers?!
I end up watching tv all day and haphazardly packing for the beach. THE BEACH!! EEK! I need to tan this body.
Getting to the airport is easy. Gonzalo, the first person I met in Colombia ever, was happy to see I was still here surviving. The Medellin airport was not like how I remembered. That day was a complete blur. This time I find coffee shops, with the same slow and steady service, unique to Colombia and I wonder how many times people have been late to a flight because they are “grabbing a coffee.”
They promptly start boarding and what I didn’t realize was that boarding meant, let’s all bum rush the door. Colombians love queuing up, but this was unreal. For a country that lacks serious critical thinking skills, I would think maybe we could get a more organized process to board the plane.
I’m still really cranky from my hangover and everything is annoying me, but I’m holding out for when we arrive at the airbnb. I can make it. Just get me there.