I worked three hours this week.
I spent more money getting to work in taxis because I was running late than I got paid. Well, probably just half of this week's salary went to those taxistas. The other half went to post-work, wind-down, de-stress beers. I mean, I at least have to play the part of working woman, right?
One would think that with only one class to teach starting at noon, I might be able to leave the house on time. It was quite the opposite however. The less I have to do, the less I do.
Here's a snapshot of one of my workdays this week. I am awakened by the neighborhood children and my crazy landlord playing in the streets at 7 am. Then I roll over and continue sleeping until I get out of bed around 9. Then it's on to Facebook and G-chat. I usually set a time limit for myself to restrain my Facebook stalking, but I don't usually stick to limits well in general. Facebook usually cuts into shower time which pushes back the whole morning.
By 11 am I usually realize that I am supposed to be leaving the house within 15 minutes and I force myself off Facebook and into the shower. By then, I've resigned to the fact that I won't be taking the bus to work.
I walk into class right on time at 12 on the dot usually. Class is over by 1:30 and then the real danger sets in. I have to walk through the mall to get to the bus stop. This means I am buying something, either a new pair of shoes or at least an overpriced lunch. Then I catch the bus and make my way back to my neighborhood.
I get off the bus in my neighborhood at the corner where my friend Nena runs a cafe. This is my next stop. I sit and have a coffee on the terrace and Nena sits and chats with me between customers.
I make it home just in time for the afternoon rain which leaves no other option but to enjoy a little siesta time. After that, it's out for dinner and drinks to keep my social life alive and well.
Now do you understand my tough life?
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