Fresh out of the shower and already I found myself wiping the beads of sweat that have formed on my brow. I shake my head at the insanity of the sweltering heat to which I thought I'd joyfully escaped from in the desert sauna of Las Vegas.
I feel the dampness returning on my neck even without the curtain of my hair that I'd already pulled up into a tight ponytail. The fan only blows warm air as I sit in the living room across from my two younger brothers and my Mom. They're busily doing their homework as my Mom enjoys a cup of yogurt. They talk about Christmas and about my Dad's big 5-0 birthday party in December and I think..."Ahh...December...what I would give for it to be here now."
I recall this morning when I awoke in agitation as I felt the discomfort of my soaked shirt, my legs tangled in the light blanket, and the heaviness of the heat enveloping me like a thick comforter I couldn't fight my way out of. It's the kind of heat that sucks the very energy from you. It makes you want to move as little as possible so that you don't generate even more body heat. It's the kind of heat that ice cream can do little to satiate the hunger to cool down, where maybe a swimming pool still isn't adequate, and where shoving yourself into a freezer seems completely rational if not absolutely appealing.
I couldn't find the motivation to unpack until 8 pm last night, after having enjoyed a quiet walk with my dog around this unfamiliar neighborhood. I was surprised to see that at 7:30 pm there were a handful of people who had the same idea, passing us along on the sidewalk. I couldn't believe I was in Lathrop. But the quiet, country atmosphere seemed to be something that my fast paced life needed - a break - my life needed a break. None-the-less with the impending trip, I grew nervous and yet excited with the thought that within a few weeks time I would be away again.
I spent a better part of today working on the preparations for the upcoming trip abroad; purchasing the EuroRail train reservations (which are separate from the Train Passes), reworked the itinerary as I realized that I was missing a place to stay for one of the nights (yikes! what a bummer that would've been, had I not caught it), and I finally purchased my ticket home from Valencia to SFO. I'm supposed to be spending at least 2 hours per day on Rosetta practicing my Spanish (a bit rusty - not to mention Espana's spanish is somewhat different from the Spanish I'd learned to use here). My favorite word is un poquito, which means little...it's my favorite word primarily because that's about how much spanish I know...very little...
My brain feels lethargic from the weight of this heat. It pulls at my consciousness as if testing my ability to resist it. I'm fighting hard against the desire to nap.
Why fight it?
I went to wash the dishes this morning and found this gigantic praying mantis on the screen above the sink. I thought, "I wouldn't creep any lower if I were you...my Pomeranian is the curious type and you're big enough to look like a chew toy."
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