Ginny's Visit

I wake up with a sore throat and a stranger in the bed next to me. Ginny from Bilbao arrived late last night and instead of bothering with an extra cot, we decided to throw onto the other end of the Queen Size. I constructed pillow barricades and wore a chastity belt to make sure that all hands stayed on their prospective sides of the bed. We are talking about Juan Luis' girlfriend, after all.


The next morning we get up and mosey down the street. Ginny doesn't like walking too much, so we make plenty of stops to rest and refill our bellies. We have chocolate and churros, typical Spanish breakfast fare; a caloric Weapon of Mass Destruction, these deep-fried sticks of dough are dipped into a cup of melted chocolate and cream. American hot chocolate is water compared to this. We also do a little bit of shopping, although neither of us wind up buying anything. I couldn't help but smile. It was a perfect kind of day: waking up late, no hurry, no plan, lots of frivolous spending. The week is far too cramped, too rushed, too much. Not being too used to a proper job with a proper salary and things, I can't say if this is what the future holds for me, but I dearly hope not. The weekends keep me sane, but they're far too short and filled with too many things I couldn't do during the week. I miss the lazy days of graduate school, where your greatest effort was not planning or implementing classes, it was doing mental stretches in front of your computer, writing your great masterpiece (or what would stand in its place until you had time for the masterpiece). Oddly enough, I can't wait to get back to that.