Crushed under the weight of an enourmous pile of dung.
What does it take to break me?
Three badly slept nights, an everlasting hay fever that makes my eyes feel like they might ignite any given time, endless e-mail conversations (wars) with various travel agencies and airline companies to set things right with our return home, having to organize my return home seeing as how I thought it was all set and getting a frustrated comment from my supervisor about backing off from some work I had done (yes, I have found a culture where effectiveness is frowned upon and laziness is appreciated).
That didn't break me, though. That just made me extremely tired, fed up and angry.
I just took a nap for the first time in ages. That was not a healthy sign in my opinion because I am not a person who likes to or is used to taking naps. Taking that single nap made me feel like I gave up.
I had a dream about walking in a department store-like surf shop with brand clothing ranging from Billabong to Volcom. All these young people with their sleeveless beach shirts and colorful shorts were strolling about, all very muscular and tanned. They either nodded at me or smiled at me - a fake smile everytime - like they cared. Some were carrying their surf boards with them but the boards were too small for surfing. I tried to find my way out or I tried to find myself some proper clothing. I found neither and I felt desperate, and lost. I circled around a corner to find the way up and found that it only led to the women's section of the store. People were coming in from the end of long hallway, shining in the dark blue colors of deep sea, but it looked too threatening for me to walk down. I felt like drops of sweat trickling down my face as my search for the way out endured as a question without an answer.
I woke up with my red eyes staring blankly into the white wall of the dormitory. I felt tired, even though I had just slept for an hour. Tired from trying find all these solutions to my problems.
I want out from the surf shop.