Sunday, September 27, 2009

Getting used to living here...

It is always an adjustment when you move to someplace new -- always. There's just no getting around that. One of the biggest adjustments besides weather (which honestly isn't that much different than Georgia in the summer time) is the food. Not only is your variety gone, but you knock what you do have down a little further when you figure out where you can and cannot eat. Case in point, dealing dealing with a four-day shack attack. What's a shack attack you ask? Well, to be blunt, it's finding the wrong piece of chicken that's apparently sat there in a hot box for several hours and festered with bacteria such that when you eat it you are rendered incapable of holding in/down food for the next four days. Lovely scenario, no?

Said shack attack, as I said, lingered around for several days, and made life very unpleasant. It was difficult to eat since I would have to run to the bathroom within two hours of eating to avoid being sick in front of everybody and/or avoid SEVERE intestinal cramps -- it's really bad when they both happen at the same time. As such, you get dehydrated and easily cramp. Try playing a tennis match with little to no sustenance in your body for four days -- it ain't pretty, I lasted a whopping four games before my legs shut down. My opponent played a good match though, so all the credit to him. I have learned that I can not take a chance any longer on eating something unless I have seen it myself come off the stove or grill, or have a drink that was not made with bottled water. Oh yeah, the water tears up my stomach. My stomach must be more sensitive than post people's because most people haven't had multiple rounds of this stuff like I have -- I've had three, though this has been the longest one. One only lasted a morning, got sick and it was over.

Another thing that takes getting used to is "Island Time." Case in point, your laundry gets picked up and you're told you'll get it back by 7 that evening. You don't get it until seven the next evening because the driver apparently had something better to do. Not a GREAT argument considering I don't have to do the laundry myself, but nonetheless, why hasn't the whole punctuality thing made it down here? Bear in mind A LOT of these aggravations stem from lack of sleep and nutrition stemming from said shack attack!

A few bits of nostalgia hit me the other day. They didn't make me homesick or anything (still waiting for that to blindside me), but they were nice memories. I enjoyed thinking about tennis with Amigo in Athens once or twice a week. Just getting away for the weekend(s) (thanks again Amigo), and viewing with disgust the Love-birds and their trials and tribulations...well I don't need to go to anymore detail about that. The pinot noir and tapas at Casa Mia, the sushi, the Thai Food at Thai Spoon...ahhh yum. Those usually followed by dancing at 80's Bar with Skinny and/or Nasty and AD joined too. I don't miss A LOT of things about where I worked, but I do miss having the music turned up in the lab and making fun of Nasty's singing (and vice versa). I miss the group lunches. I miss the quiet Saturdays to myself. And God do I miss Frohmuller's!

All of these things are nice when isolated, but the combined picture unfortunately isn't worth me leaving where I am now (heck, I'll only be here another 14 months) and what I'll have and be able to do! Not going to lie though, there are times when it would seem really nice, but then where would I be? Somewhere I'd rather not find myself in the long term... And some of them if I were to stay or go back for them, they wouldn't be there anymore because the situation and circumstances were short term anyway, though weren't they fun! I'm missing them at the moment because I miss when I was able to do nothing when I wanted to. I didn't enjoy it most of the time because there literally was nothing to do...

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