Phone Calls, Meetings

Ancient and just about only Spanish friend Alberto called around midnight to tell me that he was accepted into an internship that will send him to Johannesburg, South Africa for a year. He's leaving the first week in October. We spent about thirty minutes on the phone, and as always we laughed a lot. I stumbled over my Spanish in happiness and from lack of practice. I hung up the phone and realized that unless I really make things change this Fall, I'm kinda Spanish-friendless and just a little bit more lonely.

Tomorrow is the meeting with Boss about my reduction to a more manageable 20-hour work week. According to Emily from work, I also should be negotiating my "You got shafted" salary as well. I've already mentioned it, but the outcome will decide if I'm staying in Spain or packing up my stuff and getting the hell outta Dodge. And what do I want? Shrug. As Alberto packs for South Africa and I look into a foggy future of Grad Schools and Spanish speaking, I like to imagine there's some kind of silver lining, some longshot hope that the last three months could make it all worth while. But at this point, folding t-shirts at the Gap Outlet is looking pretty appealing next to teaching English.