5 hours later, at 10:00 am it's too hot to sleep. My blinds are closed and I'm in bed with sunglasses on. The fun started rather promptly after I met Jackie at the train station.
Jackie and I shared a few memories, and vodka-Fanta, while we waited for Sarp to return from the airport. A few minutes later he arrived with Christina, a girl who hails from near Valencia, and our resident couch surfer for the night. I immediately hid my few valued possessions and we went to Dezmara.
I'd only been privy to the hole in the ground, that was Dezmara, once before. Flashback to the Wednesday night of the Champion's League final: I ducked as to not hit my head on the low stone roof as I stepped down into the tiny underground room. A man slumped on a stool at the base of the stairs and vomited on himself. Closer to the bar two tired looking late to middle aged women groped one another. This time was different. I was pleased to see the majority of my colleagues. Ridiculousness ensued. I remember being very inebriated very early on.
I could go into more detail about my escapades. But to be honest I don't really feel like it. What shitty reporting on my life, for you, the internet reader. Watch twenty minutes of The Real Cancun and you'll start to get an idea. Just more rainy and communist, but the level of disregard for societal standards and level of consumption are on par.
I went to bed at 5:18 am.
Instead of sleeping I think I'm going to make some coffee and read. It might be futile but I won't know unless I try. Plans for the day include trying not to feel too bad for myself and recovering for tonight. When I am so decrepit and useless on weekends it makes me excited about work on Monday. Weird?
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