You know how on your last day of a vacation you can't stop thinking about how it's the last day. And you should be enjoying the moment. But, even though you're still on vacation your mind starts to wander and you can't stop fixating about going home. And all the crap you have to do at home. So you just wasted your last day of vacation because you already checked out. We have 5 more months in Morocco and I'm trying so hard not to check out.
But it's hard. I think more and more about Colorado every day. About my friends there and how much I've missed them. About my house and how I feel like I've been in a vacation rental for 2 years. And while it's nice, it has never felt like home. I miss seeing the mountains everyday. I miss roller derby. I miss English.
But then I think how much I'm going to miss the friends I've made here in Morocco. I'll miss the adventure. And even, maybe even especially, the misadventure of it all. I'll miss the chaotic driving. I'll miss the beach. I'll miss my belly dance class.
But I won't miss French.
I've just learned to navigate life here and now it's time to move back. And I'm totally conflicted about that. But what I don't want to do is check out yet.
And then today I had to go the store.
I had no soap or toilet paper in the house. And as we know, every house needs soap and toilet paper. It was pouring rain. I grab a wet cart from outside the Marjane. And as I make the walk into the store it becomes aparent I got the crap cart. Ok, they're all the crap cart in Morocco, but this one was especially bad. It had one super funky wheel that meant that I had to push it at an acute angle forcing me to engage my abs, arms, legs and butt and that was just to get it to go straight. The result was not so a-cute. But, bonus, pushing that cart was a total body workout.
I went to to make my first sharp left into the soap aisle. It started by me throwing my body way out to the right like a 18 wheeler would do to make a right, except in the total opposite direction. And it ended with me kicking it and then body slamming the whole cart. All with me swearing out loud a la anglais. Of course there are 3 women stocking the shelves in that aisle who stop to stare at me. Then point. Then laugh.
And if you live in Morocco you know you have had this same crap cart and that you too have done the same thing.
I continued to wrestle the cart all the way through the store. Because even though I only came to get a few items, they were spread all over that huge store. (My ass will thank me later.) So finally I get to the check out and put my items on the belt.
Oh shit.
I forgot the toilet paper.
And do you know where toilet paper is from the register? It's clear on the other side of the store. So I ran in clogs past the ladies in the soap aisle. Who again stared. Pointed. And laughed. Because I was doing that cautious tight-ass I don't want to run because I'm running in wet wooden clogs and trying not to fall run. And then I run back through the same aisle with toilet paper in hand. They probably thought I had the shits or something.
Finally, I'm back at the check out. And I'm sick of the crap cart. And scratchy Moroccan toilet paper. I just really want to check out. Though I'm trying desperately not to.
