|Tasha is tired of Mondays|
My pants were too tight, my hair was bad, and (flexible) (well-paid) work (that lets me live anywhere in the damn world that I want to) was destroying my soul.
Yes, I know, what a whiner I am. Here in a country with desperate poverty and a corrupt government, all I can do is complain about how tight my pants are because I've indulged a little bit too much in queso fresco and tacos al pastor.
Mmm, tacos al pastor. Actually, better yet, TORTAS AL PASTOR.
But I digress. In general, life in Puebla for a privileged gringa such as myself is idyllic.
I rent a little apartment with a Mexican family where I get 1)cheap rent 2)delicious homecooked meals 3)a clean room every day 4)Spanish practice and 5)canine companionship (shout out to my homies Tasha, Dolly, and Coco!)
It's also sunny. All. The. (Effing). Time.
OK, I love sun, don't get me wrong. Especially after 25 years of the endless winters in Seattle. But I'm starting to recall my love for rain too, and a bit of cloud cover in which to hide.
I'm also realizing how much I crave the presence of water. In Seattle, you're never far from it. Throw a rock and you find a lake or a bay or a channel. At my ex-mother-in-law's house, I could literally launch myself into Lake Washington from here backyard (which I did often and enthusiastically).
|Ah, Isla Mujeres.|
So it's a good thing I'm headed to Seattle in a few days. Besides seeing my friends and my dogs (oh, the pugz, how I miss them!) I will get to quench my thirst for clouds and water and rain.
Unless, of course, there's a freak stretch of sunny weather.