OK, so, left the goat farm. I arrived in Lisboa by bus yesterday. My first realization as I walked out of the bus station was that I smelled. And my clothes were dirty. Are dirty. I might still smell. I should really do something about that but I feel like I just had a shower.....it can't have been that long ago.... anyways I can't smell that bad since I still managed to attract the unwanted attention of a hung over portuguese guy this morning while making coffee. He just didn't seem to be able to figure out what to do with his empty plastic water bottle while standing beside the recycling bin and hence felt the need to ask my advice. Thats a new one. I'm surprised he didn't ask what time it is. Maybe that's too clever for someone who has only slept two hours.
But really, I guess I'm not one to talk. Let me describe my last day with the goats.
My alarm goes off at 6:30 a.m. What the heck? My sleepy brain asks. Why is my alarm going off? I just went to bed! But instead of turning it off (thank goodness my brain didn't think of that) I hit the snooze button. I hit it again at 6:35, 6:40, 6:45, 6:50, 6:55, and 7:00. At 7:00 something penetrates my consiousness enough to realize that I have to get up. It's 7:00. Even if I only slept 3 hours it's still 7:00. I sit up and instantly realize that moving that fast will not be possible today. I need water. I get up and somehow manage to make a lunch that I will not eat and start to stumble down the hill to the goats. It doesn't help that on my way to the outhouse I pass Nurne puking into the pig food. That might not be such a bad idea.
I asked for this last day with the goats. I even stayed an extra day for it. (I lied, left on Tuesday, not on MOnday...) I thought that it would be a great day lying in the sunshine, listening to goats chomping on grass and contemplating life while admiring cork trees. It sounds amazing eh? I put my journal in my bag with my lunch so I could write down profound revelations. I would leave that farm with my life figured out.
Too bad that by the time I was done puking my guts out, drifting in and out of sleep and waking up to goats head butting me, (hey at least they didn't run away) all I could think of to put in my journal was "I wanted to do the goats one last day so that I could be all reflective on life. And then I was hungover."
So there you have it. My profound revelations as I left the goat farm.
Funny thing about that situation was that usually when you show up to work hung over you feel terribly irresponsible and do everything you can so that your boss doesn't notice. (not that i've done this before, i can just imagine you know) But in this case it was my "boss" that took me out and decided we'd all come back at 3 am. I pretty sure it was also her that bought my last few beers since I don't remember thinking that I needed more but they would all of a sudden appear in front of me anyways. SO on the bright side I didn't have the irresponsible giulty feeling as I realized as soon as I was left with the goats that I hadn't closed the lid on my water bottle properly and my back and bag were soaked. But don't worry, I'm responsible and reflecting on life.
No comments:
Post a Comment