week eight: a day in the life

as many of you know by now, i am head over heels for this country. like when something less than pleasant happens it’s totally fine because I’M IN SPAIN. obviously not everything is perfect. i get stressed out about tests and i have a bad attitude most mornings, but when i take the time to stop an evaluate everything that is going on, i’m blown away by the fact that this is my life and this is the season i get to be in. blessings on blessings, yo.

there are hundreds of moments throughout my day where i wish my friends and family were here to enjoy spain with me (my parents and uncle come a week from tomorrow — HOLY CRAP I’M SO EXCITED). so i’ve decided to walk you through what a normal spanish morning looks like for me, sprinkled with my commentary. i hope that sounds entertaining, because i can’t think of anything else to write about this week. for the full experience, please use the following as instructions on how to spend one of your mornings as if you were here in spain with me.

let’s begin.

WAKE UP! — 7:15am. don’t get out of bed though. embrace the fact that there is a seven hour time difference and there are 40 new photos on instagram to look at. lay in bed on your phone, send some snapchats, ignore the fact that you have 42 unread emails.

GET OUT OF BED! — 7:30am. do your morning thing. for me that includes smearing goop on my face so i can look socially acceptable; but i don’t think that makes me any less of a human. put some real clothes on. sadly, sweatpants are unacceptable attire here. when in doubt, wear something black, pair it with a scarf, feel european. oh yeah, looking good. brush your teeth. this is a very important step in spain. why? besitos. that’s why. do all of this while half asleep, thinking in both english and spanish.

GIVE YOURSELF A PEP TALK! — 7:50am. in the words of my flamenco instructor “you are zee best.” repeat this until you believe it.

WANDER TO THE BREAKFAST TABLE! — 7:55am. stare at the spanish news and pretend to know what they are talking about while your adorable señora prepares you breakfast (that’s right, you’re a little bit spoiled). i am a firm believer that coffee tastes better when someone else makes it for you. pour yourself a mug full, add some questionable milk, ignore the fact that the milk is a little chunky, sprinkle in a little sugar to help cover up the fact that there’s milk chunks. DRINK! mmmmcoffeeeee. cut a whole loaf of bread, yes a whole loaf (carbs don’t exist in spain), in half and *toast* (microwave) it. slap some cream cheese on that baby. the bread to cream cheese is a little tricky… less than bruegger’s, but enough so you can’t see the top of the bread….ya dig? here’s where things get really exotic. but some strawberry jam ON TOP OF the cream cheese. you’re an artist. you are zee best. you can handle this day.

GO FINISH MAKING YOURSELF LOOK SOCIALLY ACCEPTABLE! — 8:10am. you have approximately five minutes to make your hair look like a bird doesn’t live in it. move move move. spend one minute convincing yourself you have time to curl it (you don’t). go for the braided low bun and regret the fact that you chopped off eleven inches of your locs in august. perfect!

GRAB THE ESSENTIALS! — 8:15am. backpack? check. keys? check. phone? check. birkenstocks? check. your books are actually in your backpack? (probably not) check-ish. chipper personality and award winning smile? nope, too early.

SAY GOODBYE TO ROSA AND PRETEND TO KNOW WHAT SHE INAUDIBLY YELLS BACK THROUGH THE BATHROOM DOOR! — 8:20am.

GET YOUR BUTT OUT THE DOOR! — 8:21am. down the stairs, out the door, to the street. it’s now time to make a very important decision. mode of transportation. you have three options: 1) walking. it’ll take you at least 40 minutes, and there’s a lot of bobbing and weaving through people. can you handle that today? are you mentally stable enough? probably not. 2) the bus. you have to have a pretty good excuse if you’re going to waste 69 centimos on the bus. valid excuses include — illness, monday, or arghblugrhshmmduoo (you will truly know in your heart if it is the third). 3) sevicci. a clever combination of the words sevilla and bicci. aka public bikes that can be found all around the city. PICK NUMBER THREE, MY LORD.

MAKE YOUR WAY TO THE SEVICCI STATION! — 8:25am. cross the street. smile at the adorable fruit delivery boy at enrique’s fruteria. ignore the old man catcalling you. make it to the station. evaluate the situation. there are two options, and only two options for what you will encounter. 1) there are 20 available bikes. that’s right. all of them are there. some are shiny, some are rusty. you get first pick. HOW THRILLING*! 2) there are 2 available bikes. one of them will be missing a seat and the other a pedal. please walk 4 blocks to the next closest sevicci station. do not pass go. do not collect 200 euros. *you still manage to pick a bike with gears that keep catching on themselves and non-functioning brakes. you will be hyperventilating and in a full body sweat by the time you get to school.

GOOOOO! — 8:30am. bike like you have never biked before! develop a mantra the chant to yourself so you don’t go crazy. a mantra is where you breath in saying one thing and exhale saying another. i usually use it for praying during quiet time, but it works great for biking too. here are some that i use on a daily basis:

these drivers are stupid, god is still good.

birds — please don’t kill me, i am so blessed.

oh my gosh get out of the bike lane you idiot child with a rolling backpack like can you not hear my dinging bike bell, you are zee best.

CROSS THE BRIDGE — 8:40am. alright. there’s a slight incline coming up. there’s a traffic light right before it so you have time to mentally prepare yourself. like, it wouldn’t even be THAT bad. but you have a backpack on, and as i mentioned earlier — you picked the worst bike in the history of seviccis. the light is green! go go go! begin to pedal with all of your might and try to distract yourself with the cute little castle on the left. omg you can’t breath. why is this so hard? why don’t you ever work out? blackout for a second. make it to the top of the slight incline. the rest of the bike ride is a blur. somehow, god-willing, you make it to the sevicci drop off station.

CLICK IN YOUR BIKE — 8:45am. this sounds easy. it’s not. it’s like one of the most stressful parts of your morning. i’m getting anxiety thinking about it.

KEEP MOVING — 8:47am. you have thirteen minutes to make it to school, so you better keep moving. no time to catch your breath. no time to hydrate. moooooove.

ARRIVE AT SCHOOL — 8:58am. you think you’re done, do you?! HA! you’re not. you are most definitely not. before you begin your extremely difficult classes in another language, you must first ascend three flight of stair that make fourth floor naz look like the bunny hill. the steps are a little bit taller and they are just the slightest bit steeper. it’s like the black diamond of all staircases. climb up. with your backpack and collapsed lungs. hear the motivating words from anna bello, the receptionist — ERES MUY JOVEN (you are so young)! POR QUE LLORAS SOBRE LAS ESCALERAS (why are you crying about the stairs)?! ignore the last part.

DIE — 9:00am. you are zee best.

well that’s all i have for you. my morning routine. it’s kind of like completing an iron man every single day. on a completely unrelated note — i’m really good at exaggerating.

tomorrow we will go on another class trip, which is usually when i but out the camera. so, sorry, no pictures right now! but next week there should be more than you can handle.