Do you know what’s the easiest thing in the world to do, no mater what city/country/time zone you find yourself in?
Not write.
I can’t believe I’ve been here six weeks now and hardly written a word. Not just in here, but in the journal I said I’d scribble in (most) every day.
Oh well. Best laid plans and all. I’d love to blather on about my new Iberian life and how it’s filled with the same old neuroses, but I’ve got three lessons to prepare for tomorrow and need to bone up on my estilo indirecto, el imperfecto de subjuntivo, and then research some vocabulary so I can blag my way through tomorrow’s conversation class.
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