Peligroso

Twelve hour layover in Lima two years ago. Shivered in the all too air conditioned airport. Walked through every shop often enough that I could have written up inventories. Only ate once because I couldn't justify forking over that kind of cash twice. Was convinced that the airport was in a dangerous part of town. Peligroso.

Nine hour layover in Mexico D.F. today. Withdrew two hundred pesos from my account, ignorant of the exchange rate. Ate some tacos on the road. Bought a bottle of water. Bought a fruit salad the size of my head that was covered in salt, lime juice, chili pepper, and spicy sauce. Large enough that I was unable to finish it. Later, had ten more tacos (the small ones) and a cinnamon bun in a small market near a bus station.

In September, I go back to school for the third time. The last time I studied in français I was still legally a child. The last time I studied at all, I went into more debt than I've earned in the last two years working a minimum wage job. The last time I studied, I ended up a hermit. Drunk. Never leaving the house. I ended up needing more years of therapy than I have years of studying coming my way.

In September, I face the potential for history to repeat itself.