Energy we spend arguing about things that don't matter could be spent working towards our goals. — Mary Glass
Monday, August 6, 2012 (DAYS 155 & 156)
In the months, even days before as I would awake in new unfamiliar places constantly reminding myself that I am no longer in Colorado, but in Belize, Guatemala, Honduras, El Salvador, this is no longer a daily mental reminder, but my mind has now come to an understanding that I no longer have to remind myself of a previous life back home but that I truly am living out my dream and I smile at this thought as I lay in my bed staring up at the wooden slates above me. This tranquil moment is rudely interrupted with a loud English accent as Marc begins slapping me until I jump out of bed. This was never the normality of a wake up call back home, being assaulted as I am just waking up, but apparently has become a ritual for this ex-rugby player that brags about his accomplishments as a former pro player. All I can think about is how he should be bragging about using the toothbrush that I purchased for him weeks ago that still sits locked in plastic on the floor next to his unopened bar of soap, bottle of mouthwash, and coupons for prepaid laundry service that I graciously collected for the sake of anyone that has the unfortunate mistake of coming within proximity to the odor that permeates from him. Oh the abuse we give one another is just part of the camaraderie of having him as a best friend, and while he knows that he’s like a brother to me, I am grateful for all that we have been able to share in the past month. Cheers mate, you’re a good bloke and I know we have greatness waiting for us in all of our endeavors.
In the months, even days before as I would awake in new unfamiliar places constantly reminding myself that I am no longer in Colorado, but in Belize, Guatemala, Honduras, El Salvador, this is no longer a daily mental reminder, but my mind has now come to an understanding that I no longer have to remind myself of a previous life back home but that I truly am living out my dream and I smile at this thought as I lay in my bed staring up at the wooden slates above me. This tranquil moment is rudely interrupted with a loud English accent as Marc begins slapping me until I jump out of bed. This was never the normality of a wake up call back home, being assaulted as I am just waking up, but apparently has become a ritual for this ex-rugby player that brags about his accomplishments as a former pro player. All I can think about is how he should be bragging about using the toothbrush that I purchased for him weeks ago that still sits locked in plastic on the floor next to his unopened bar of soap, bottle of mouthwash, and coupons for prepaid laundry service that I graciously collected for the sake of anyone that has the unfortunate mistake of coming within proximity to the odor that permeates from him. Oh the abuse we give one another is just part of the camaraderie of having him as a best friend, and while he knows that he’s like a brother to me, I am grateful for all that we have been able to share in the past month. Cheers mate, you’re a good bloke and I know we have greatness waiting for us in all of our endeavors.
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