Friday, November 9, 2012

Study Abroad: Part [... It's midnight and I can't sleep]

I'm so tired and frustrated.  Granted, being somewhat sick all day hasn't helped, nor has the rumbling in my stomach.  And on top of that, my sleep cycle has decided to abandon me.  Once again.

I never thought this would be so... Hard. Fanatical. Difficult. Bureaucratic. Writing a story, a piece of journalistic news, has always been smooth back in the States.  I send out an e-mail, maybe two, and a well-timed phone call.  My source, or person of interest, then responds and I type so that I have a piece to hand in.  Here, I can't talk to anyone without getting the right piece of permission which had to be handed out from the right ministry, apparently a millenium ago.  And standing outside of an orphanage, with walls and guards, makes me look sketchy as all.

I miss the ability to call anyone and get reception (apparently, local coverage doesn't really hold up against the ancient time-melting abilities of a medina), surf the internet (not that there is really anything to hold my interest, or that there is enough broadband on a modem stick to actually "surf"),  and the ability to make food on something that isn't a freakin' propane tank (though my reflexes have improved from trying to not burn myself).

I want greasy, nasty disgusting food.  I want my mother on the phone, or giving me a hug.  Maybe I should go to Pizza Hut.

I want to go to Meknes, Tangier, see the rest of Morocco, and not feel like I'm drowning in news articles, journalist names, or plain fatigue.

Don't know why I'm even this tired. All I want to do is sleep.  Or curse.  Am I even allowed to curse online?  Probably.  But the emphatic twist of satisfaction when saying "fuck" or "shit" is entirely elusive when it's in my head and I don't know if anyone will hear it.  Or do I miss simply shocking them?  Is it shocking when I'm not entirely that innocent of a person, letting swear words slip, or do they expect it in the way that a frustrated teenager says it?

I want to go to Casalanca to see a friend, but at the same time, I don't particualrly care... Casa seemed so dirty and cramped and expensive and unsatisfying when I went last.  But at the same time, maybe the company will more than make up for it.

And my stomach just growled again.  I'm so hungry.  But this morning, I woke up with the signs of food poisoning: TD, vomiting, slight fever and nausea.  Trust me, I've done this plenty of times already (by my count: 4 this semester). That means: cumin to settle my stomach, pills of all shapes and sizes (only two, both oblong, one white, the other red), and water.  I think the apple and few spoonfuls of couscous were satisfying, and so were the pastries, but that was a good twelve hours ago.

If I pass out on my stairs, I wonder what's the chance of me getting amnesia?

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