I’ve known for a while that something about my recent lifestyle needs to change. Today only seeks to emphasise this point. I sleep horribly, with a nasty hangover and nothing to do but ride it out. It’s all the fun of the fair when you’re living it up when the sun goes down, but boy is it different in the daylight. It’s time to make that concerted effort to change the pattern. Step one is to leave Medellin.
Which of course I’m not going to do today. I’m far too ill. I won’t be doing it tomorrow either, as I always like to have a recovery window of two days. There is nothing worse than being on a bus with devil in your head and stomach. I’m aiming for Sunday, and when I say Sunday dear reader, I probably mean I’m never going to leave.
Haters are gonna hate. As they say. If I was ghetto. Yet to be honest I’ve found a family here. It’s not the crazy nights out that have made me stay (although logistically they have a lot to answer for), but more so the friends I’ve made along the way. The guys have been here seven months, others longer, so seven weeks doesn’t seem that bad. I’m still torn between staying and leaving, although I am ready to don the back pack once more. The cold harsh truth is I need to do it for the good of my health. Both physically and financially.
And so the chapter draws to an end. Let’s not put a hex on it. Actions speak louder than words. I’ve been bumping my gums a lot about change recently, let’s see if I have the wherewithal to go through with it.
The end of the chapter?
I’ve known for a while that something about my recent lifestyle needs to change. Today only seeks to emphasise this point. I sleep horribly, with a nasty hangover and nothing to do but ride it out. It’s all the fun of the fair when you’re living it up when the sun goes down, but boy is it different in the daylight. It’s time to make that concerted effort to change the pattern. Step one is to leave Medellin.
Which of course I’m not going to do today. I’m far too ill. I won’t be doing it tomorrow either, as I always like to have a recovery window of two days. There is nothing worse than being on a bus with devil in your head and stomach. I’m aiming for Sunday, and when I say Sunday dear reader, I probably mean I’m never going to leave.
Haters are gonna hate. As they say. If I was ghetto. Yet to be honest I’ve found a family here. It’s not the crazy nights out that have made me stay (although logistically they have a lot to answer for), but more so the friends I’ve made along the way. The guys have been here seven months, others longer, so seven weeks doesn’t seem that bad. I’m still torn between staying and leaving, although I am ready to don the back pack once more. The cold harsh truth is I need to do it for the good of my health. Both physically and financially.
And so the chapter draws to an end. Let’s not put a hex on it. Actions speak louder than words. I’ve been bumping my gums a lot about change recently, let’s see if I have the wherewithal to go through with it.