Living alone sucks when sick.

I like living alone.  There are certain freedoms and qualities that I just can’t get enough of:  like doing whatever I want, when I want wearing what I want.  Having no one to blame or congratulate except myself when things go poorly or well.  Not having unspoken expectations and different standards of cleanliness irritate me.

The thing that sucks a lot, is when I am sick.  Ain’t no one gonna take care of Adam when he far away from home and feeling like something the cat dragged in.

I felt pretty good this time around in the Philippines, no immediate depression or intense culture shock or diet shock or rejecting rice as a meal 24/7.  No things were great until last week when I went to visit a school I’m to be volunteering at this June.

Now things aren’t so fun.  I don’t want to work, I want stay home, give up or go home (all the way home.)

Good health is one thing I haven’t taken for granted since 2011…looks like I will value non allergenic reactions with the treasured gaze from now on out as well.

 

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