I’m home.
I know this because I am writing this post from a brand-new Mac, and because:
- There are no sups who chatter loudly outside my room beginning at 5:30 am
- My cell phone no longer resembles a toy phone, and it no longer has stickers on the back.
- No one calls me to detail their diarreah
- I am not at all concerned about how the guys from Bombas y Motores are going to be paid for the Bevil grant project in San Geronimo
- we just had Indian take-out for dinner. And it was so good.
- I’m wearing a sweater.
- its night-time, and I don’t feel the need to cover my legs with leggings and feet with socks so I don’t get bitten
- Maribel has not called me in six hours. This is a record for the last few months, and a reality for the next few.
- When I pee, I can throw the toilet paper in the toilet. Yet, I still hesitate, looking for the trash.
- No vols are calling asking me to send them DVDs, fix their MovieMaker, or trouble shoot their Flip Cams.
- No Youth Counterparts are calling asking me to let them bring extra people to such and such event.
- No sups are calling asking about sending vols to buy materials to X community.
- No Plan people are calling asking how many juices to order for that upcoming meeting.
- No Amigos On-Call is calling asking for updated medical reports.
- No host moms are calling to report their vol ate lunch.
- No sups are calling to ask me about flea bites, mosquito bites, swollen bites, scabies bites, and other kinds of bites.
- No Doc is calling to tell me the weekly bill.
- Generally, no one is calling.
- There are baby carrots, sweet bell peppers, snap pees, heirloom tomatoes, and cherries in the fridge.
- There is an assortment of meats in the freezer, gourmet cheese in the fridge door, and leftover Indian from dinner.
- Sammy is playing music in his study, and I feel like watching Law and Order, or CSI.
