Please, Let Me Explain

Hola beautiful tribe of readers!  It’s been quite some time since I’ve written—mostly the fault of my incredible level of business but partially my personal lack of motivation to do anything that produces other-than-social results.  I seriously feel like my social life has been a full time job lately, but I’ll cover that later.

I am supposed to be in class right now.  Surprise, surprise!  Autumn is exploring her capacity to be irresponsible on a Tuesday.  Still though, my week has been utterly crazy without my doing much of anything.  The world’s coincidences and little everyday mishaps also seem to be targeting me.  For example, let me tell you about my morning:  I woke up at 7 AM freaking out that I’d slept in too long again.  I didn’t, so I went back to sleep and had some really awesome dreams…which were rudely interrupted by my alarm a mere thirty minutes later.  It’s been difficult for me to drag my ass out of bed before the crack of noon lately so I left my windows open last night and pled for help from the sun.  I hate those mornings where you realize you have an extra few minutes of sleep and yet those cruel minutes only succeed in exhausting you further.  This has certainly been one of them. 

I snoozed right on through to 7:55 AM.  This was the kind of uncomfortable snoozing we’ve all experienced in which you never actually fall asleep but instead spin yourself into a grumpy mood because you just don’t want to get up.  You feel the noose of responsibility non-consensually extracting you from your warm sanctuary of sheets and finally succumb with a scowl plastered to your face through breakfast.  Plus, you’re probably running late at that point.  Blah.

I waded through the piles of dirty clothes on my floor, slumped to the bathroom, undressed, and pulled the shower curtain around me and the toilet.  I was fully awake and fully sober (not always a given in Argentina on a Tuesday morning at 8 AM…), but somehow life was out to get me today and with a big crash the whole shower curtain and bar came down in a cloud of dust.  I wasn’t even touching it.  Being a totally hardened nature girl the first thing that crossed my mind was, of course, my hair.  I wasn’t going to leave the house unshowered today.  Thus began the complicated process of me trying to shove the nails of the shower curtain bar firmly back into the wall.  To get an idea of what this looked like you should first understand that my bathroom is less than a meter wide, I was clotheless, and standing on my tippy toes against the wall trying not to sneeze against the dust that I was unsettling with my fruitless efforts.  Ok, clearly I couldn’t do this without synthetic height.  I wrapped a towel around me and tiptoed to the living room hoping against hope that I hadn’t woken anyone up with the traitorous shower curtain.  It was now 8:15… I grabbed a chair and snuck back to the bathroom only to discover that it didn’t fit past the sink, let alone through the doorway. 

Attempt number two led me to shutting the bathroom door, ditching the towel and tentatively lending my weight to the toilet to try and reach the shower bar.  Yeah, well my toilet is kind of made of plastic; like the lightweight thin kind that isn’t made to hold up even the tiniest of young women (a race I don’t belong to anyways.)  Although I was desperate for a shower, I was patient enough to not break both the toilet and the shower bar in one day.  I’m not going to lie, dawning my tallest high heels actually crossed my mind.  I imagined myself gracefully sliding the shower bar back into the wall with a Martha Stewart smile and a wink.  But it’s me…with high heels…and no clothes…and then my daydream image crashed with reality revealing the sure result of that—broken bones and something even more crazy like a sink torn from the wall and…uh-uh.  Bad idea. 

I reluctantly wrapped my towel around me again and set off for a stool.  Apparently the stool that’s always in the same place in our kitchen took the day off in honor of my special clumsiness and was nowhere to be found.  Somehow though, my search brought me to the terrace and I saw some white plastic footstools that looked promising.  I tried to open the backdoor quietly so as not to wake my family and stepped out onto the tenth floor balcony in my towel.  But of course a strong wind chose that exact moment to assault me and steal my towel, leaving me stumbling naked after it and slipping on something halfway across the terrace.  I’d like to think that no one saw me belly flop over my own feet and land sprawled out naked on my host family’s terrace reaching desperately for a rogue towel but, let’s face it:  I live in the center of a city of 15 million people and it was already 8:30 in the morning. 

I recovered my towel, grabbed the stool, and abandoned the rest of my dignity outside to go back in and get my blasted shower.  I totally deserved it at this point.  The stool held up despite my record of poor luck this morning and I was able to push the shower bar back into its rightful place between sneezes.  It wouldn’t stay though and I ended up showering awkwardly balancing the shower bar above me while standing on the stool and ducking every time I needed to rinse my hair. I would wager that I’m more covered in dust and dirt than when I started the whole ordeal.

That episode ended at 8:37 and I retreated to my room to put on some real clothes before reentering the kitchen in search of coffee; wasn’t going to leave anything to chance this time.   I couldn’t find anything acceptable to wear, which is quite unsurprising because I haven’t done laundry since I got home from my summer trip.  Throwing on a dirty tank top and the Argentine equivalent of sweat pants (balis), I heard another colossal crash from the bathroom.  It made me pause with my arms halfway through the straps of my stretched out tank top but nothing more.  I’ve kept the bathroom door shut since then, determined not to deal with it now.  Coffee didn’t make everything better like it’s supposed to.  I still feel tired and groggy and the scowl I woke up with didn’t even neutralize through breakfast.  I don’t think I’m going to my morning class.  Maybe I’ll finish writing about the next part of my journey this morning…maybe I’ll return to my dreams.  So many opportunities once you finally decide to ditch your daily duties 🙂

P.S.  I dyed my hair black on impulse!  Not sure how I feel about it yet…
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About Autumn Standing

I love words; my name is made up of real words, even. I am studying Global Tourism and Spanish with a minor in Business Administration at Colorado State University but this year I chose to study abroad in Buenos Aires, Argentina. That's why this blog was born--to keep my beautiful family and friends informed of my whereabouts, thoughts, accomplishments, and mistakes.

Posted on March 19, 2013, in Spring Semester, Travel and Study and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 6 Comments.

  1. Kelly Reynolds

    Poor baby, you always seem to describe all your tribulations so well that it makes me feel like the fly on the wall!

  2. Probably one of the most awful mornings in the history of classic Autumn-mornings, I must admit. But I laughed 😛 I know that’s mean, but I did. Hey, what’re best friends for, right?? ❤

  3. PS. Love the hair

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