That moment you realise you don´t want to be at the gym running endless miles to vainly fit snuggly inside your swimsuit is similar to all your other revelations. Well, it is for me anyway.
Thursday night, no Swiss half pass to travel, no couchsurfing, no one to savor a night of chocolate and wine with or an evening hike with. My next option? This is Vegas; I should be able to go salsa dancing right? Innocent enough, yeah? Wrong. Here, I am without transportation and underaged.
This is suffocating.
To cheer myself up, I give into my coffee-craving and hesitantly let Starbucks fill this empty spot. I don´t even want to get into how I´m never going to Starbucks again. All I want is a plain, SMALL cup of coffee. Nothing fancy, no whipped cream, no syrup, no sugar.
I could kill for a café con leche. My homework is done and I´ve practiced piano all day. There´s nothing attractive about going to the gym. Las Vegas, I am not impressed.
Since when did people start coming here for fun...?
I´ve been trying to look up. I do enjoy my courses and I live in a nice apartment. Falling into old ways, though. It feels like high school again. I know how Americans work; I am American. Being around more of my own kind is not what I want out of this ridiculously expensive education.