Sunday Morning: Ollie and Nena leave
Tuesday Morning: Victor leaves
Tuesday Night: Aldo leaves
Saturday Morning: Manny leaves
Saturday Afternoon: I commit suicide
Is this a joke people of Madrid? Granted my social network is as elastic as a horizontal line (math joke), but this is seriously going to be a blow to my routine. I was so accustomed to leaving work, rushing home, seeing my beautiful roommates, cooking a quick dinner, calling Manny and going out for a cocktail. Now I have a family of four next door, who for some reason decided to try a new method of parenting that flourishes on kiddie tears. I have never seen this family, nor do I even know the exact amount of relatives it contains, but I know that I dislike them. Perhaps it has to do with the context with which they moved in; for they were bound to fail when replacing my joy.
The upside of course is that I am able to regroup and refocus. It was so comfortable and became such a routine that I started losing my tenacious famine for adventure. Politics arose and roles were set, too much when living abroad. Then again, it may just be my fine-tuned defense mechanism that shoves negativity down the throat of any experience that rubs against the grain of my wishes.
Luckily this weekend finds me in Aliva, the hometown of Manny. I saw pictures of the city and it is a small metropolis, boasting a castle and a large wall surrounding the entire city. It is just for a day and will be a great escape from the city. I jokingly told Manny that he will probably cry when he leaves, to which he responded that he never cries because he always reflects on the positive. Instead of saying, "I will never see you again!!", you can think "We had a great run!" It is easier said than done but a simple truth all the same.
You can't get mad over what you have no control over because it is exhausting and fruitless. So to that, I say "LEAVE ME EVERYONE!" It was bound to happen and I am glad we crossed paths, the next time I find you may you be blessed with a thousand virgins and a never-ending chocolate fondue. I will continue on, drudge forward (or backward) yet again into the life of anonymity where I shall again reign victorious.