Tuesday:
After waiting in line at the pharmacy for ten minutes, I finally got to the front. The woman there told me one of my prescriptions was ready and the other just went through and would be ten minutes. Half an hour later, after witnessing a small miserable boy wait for his mother to bring him medicine, and a grown man take off both of his shirts to get a flu shot, I was still waiting.
But aside from the madness that is trying to get six months of prescription medicine one week before leaving the country, I also did try to enjoy my last week home. I spent the day kicking it with my friend, Kaitlin, who convinced me to make an Instagram** at lunch, and then we wondered the Aldrich museum for a bit.
I also cooked dinner, read, and sat in a bed reading some more while my two friends played Call of Duty with some random men on the Xbox network. The evening later transitioned to all of us on Omegle, which ended with a four hour video chat with a Canadian boy from midnight until 4am.
Wednesday:
I had an appointment half an hour from my house at 8am. I am not a morning person and had only gotten to bed around 4:30 am. So at 7:30 I hauled ass out of bed, and went to an appointment that seemed a thorough waste of time, and more importantly a waste of $30.
I proceeded to drop off the prescription at the same pharmacy from Tuesday, but was able to escape unscathed, with the promise that all would be ready in a few hours. With that, I left, and thought I would pick up my six months worth of pills, along with the 90 I was owed from my Tuesday prescription that evening.
I decided that I would get some breakfast, and coffee, and then go visit the lovely people at the pet store where I have worked since high school. However, as I was leaving the Dunkin Donuts, I had an awkward interaction with an old woman for whom I held both doors, and as we walked out she said "Oh no, whoever has that red car, they have a flat tire." To which I responded mournfully, "That's my red car."
Yes, four days before my flight to Madrid, I popped a flat tire. Fantastic.
I thought perhaps I could put more air in it, or maybe just wasn't fully processing the situation, and decided there was little I could do at that precise moment. So I rolled down the hill to the pet shop, parked, and went in. As I walked in, I expressed my misery to Kevin, one of the managers (who I had not seen in maybe six months). I, always eloquesnt, responded to his smiling hello with a sorrowful "everything sucks." He, in what I consider to be a noble and heroic act, followed me outside, and offered to plug my tire. Kevin plugged my tire, jacked up my car, put the spare on loosely so that if the car fell off the jack it would not damage the rotor and lent me his car so I could go put air in my freshly repaired tire.
When I returned from filling my tire, I decided not to bother him until it was time to triumphantly return his tools and car keys. BIG MISTAKE. I had to jack the car up a little more to get the newly inflated tire to fit and was perhaps a bit overzealous. The car rolled back, the rotor crashed into the asphalt, and I was horrified. I ran inside in a panic and Kevin came to the rescue... again. He lifted the body of the car enough for me to slide the jack back under, ran to get his jack as back up, and got blocks to put behind the tires. Finally we got the car up enough to get the spare on, lowered it, learned the spare tire was flat, and rolled the car onto flatter ground... I failed to mention that the car was parked on a slope for the entire preceding part of this story. Not smart. Finally Kevin switched the spare for the repaired tire, noticed a scrape in the rubber, and recommended I look into getting new tires. We test drove the car and all seemed to be okay.
I picked up all of my prescriptions, and prayed as she swiped the credit card for the nearly $350 charge. It was approved, and I finally got to go home, about two and a half hours later than I had hoped. I went home and sobbed to my father about my anxieties, lack of money, my car and my prescription woes. He recommended I get some sleep. Very wise. I slept from about one until five, and got nothing done. Then my ever-sympathetic father took me and my mom out to the Cheesecake Factory, clearly in an attempt to comfort me, though we wrote it off as a belated birthday dinner for my mother.
Thursday: I am wracking my brain to remember what I did Thursday, I think the answer is almost nothing. I read some of Mindy Kaling's book, I stewed about an annoying text, I watched some episodes of The Office, I made dinner for myself and my mother, I went to coffee with some friends. I think that's about it. Clearly I am the busiest.
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| On Friday I went to the pet store and cuddled this adorable grey bunny. He reminds me of my cat, Hunter. |
My mother took the day off from work to help me pack. We got Euros and coffee, and sorted through my things until they had been reasonably paired down. Then we went out for Indian food and watched Spirited Away, which is a FANTASTIC movie, by the way. Independent of whether or not you have seen it already, I recommend watching it. I enjoy it every time.
Perhaps more importantly, however, is my increasing sense of calm and excitement. The two are contradictory, I know, but I really have calmed down a lot from my panic about going to a foreign country where I know no one and don't speak the language. Plus I am beginning to really look forward to what promises to be an amazing experience.
So, I am into my last full day home. I will have breakfast with my friends, I will pack with my mom, and then I will have a last family dinner and a lovely evening with my parents. I plan to enjoy my last 36 hours here, though I am not sure how relaxed I will be.
**if you want to follow me on Instagram I am @mikane26 same as twitter. Follow me :) #allthesocialmedia
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