The Daily Grind

The heat slowly rises in the streets. I open my windows, regretting the addition of creaky elevator sounds and noisy sickly neighbors. The man one floor up opens his window and hacks all night loudly, coughing and spitting up. I want to call the hospital for him. Surely this is not healthy. Someone turns their television up loudly. The elevator crawls creakily up to the fifth floor and lazily finds its way back down. Who could need to ride the elevator at one in the morning? Why doesn't this man take some cough medicine?

So, one full week away from Cathy's arrival, I sit in my apartment and listen to these noises for lack of anything better to do. The day before, I sat at the table in my new apartment and planned the following week out with great care, so as not to have too much excitement in one day. What if I did everything in two days? What would I possibly do for the following six? No, like the true obsessive-compulsive that I pretend to be, I scribbled the days down and took great care to assign to them two Very Fun Activities per day. Some of these activities aren't really that fun, but anything that gets me out of the apartment is a good thing. I've read two books already and watched as much Spanish basic cable as I can stomach. These people have a fondness for news and talk shows that I can barely match.

I'm hoping that this week passes by quickly, and that Cathy gets here soon so I can finally have a breathing soul to talk to. My Spanish friends curl up into their exams and I busy myself with supermarket excursions. Once Cathy gets here, however, I'll probably miss these lazy days, each painstakingly planned by my overzealous head. Probably.