Conversation with Grandma Jackie:
“So what are you doing in Bangalore?”
“Volunteering at an orphanage.”
“Oh. Doing that again, huh?”

It’s been a long week and I’m very ready for the weekend. House to myself till Sunday and a beer festival that is going to rock my socks and tastebuds tomorrow. Five more days of work, seven days until a final weekend in NYC and 13 days until I’m on a 777 to India.

Unrelated (hmm, maybe a little related): Food aside, I am most looking forward to popping malaria pills again. Have you ever taken them? They’re freaking crazy, people. After I started taking them in Thailand, I had the most intense, vivid dreams of my life. And it was like that for a month and a half. Crazy. Dreams. Every. Single. Night. Including the first and most traumatic, in which I was convinced that the bed Jeanette and I were sleeping on was covered with ants. I was in some half-awake, half-asleep state for most of the night and couldn’t differentiate between what was real and what was in dreamland. I do remember kicking a cockroach off of my toe–and that was very much real.

Suffice it to say, those dreams eliminated any desire I might have ever had to use illicit drugs. And I didn’t get malaria.

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