The Very Tired Writer

Tonight, I'm very tired. Why, you may ask. Well, because I went to bed at four am and had to get up at eight thirty. I know, pure genius on my part. Add to this that I spent the entire day either in a car or on my feet, speaking my fourth language, and you should understand why you can currently wipe the floor with me.

We went to Leipzig today. I thought it'd be closer than it was, which it very much wasn't. The five geocaches on the way there did not exactly help to make it a shorter drive. And the seven deciliters of water making their way to my bladder did not make it much easier. Roadside toilets in Germany, for all its talk on efficiency and such, are as rancid as they are anywhere. I was very happy I'd packed my shewee, and I mean utterly delighted. Nevermind that I got asked why I went to the bathroom with a bag full of plastic parts. I miss my shewee case.

But we were on our way to the Geogames, a smallish geocaching convention and quite a big event, so the geocaches could sort of be shoehorned into the theme of the day. By the time we arrived in the early afternoon, there was no longer an option to pay a higher coverage fee and get event coins. They'd run out of coins.

By the time we arrived, the sun had also reached its zenith. It was over thirty degrees. I do not own any shorts outside of pajama shorts too short for public decency. From the waist down, I had a very good idea of how women in burqas must feel. But I had my running shoes with special shock-catching insoles in them on, so I could at least walk. I now have another woman in my life who tells people 'she takes off and she's just gone!'. I thought I was strolling. For my mother's pace, I would have been terribly slow. What does it say when the girl with healing shin splits is the fastest in a group of four?

So yeah, we watched the games. And window-shopped. My fingers itched to buy a cache and hide it, except I have no idea where I could do that, so I resisted. Until I found a short adapter for my iPod for three euros. Yoink, that was mine. A cool and cheap T-shirt to commemorate this day? Why, don't mind if I do. Oh, and you know those cotton neck 'warmers' to catch sweat that can also double as a hat? Yeah, I own two of those. Both got left in Belgium somewhere. After about an hour I was willing to look silly enough to buy one and put it on my head. No more sweat on my forehead, no more burning sun on my scalp. Heaven for five euros.

Eventually I got hungry, and like I said, it was hot. I paid event prices for an ice cream to join the strawberries I'd had for lunch, before I'd been really hungry and still willing to think healthy.

In the midst of it all, I was the only one who'd thought to bring water that's easily carried. I had two of my precious bottles full of room-temperature H2O in my purse, which had seemed like enough that morning. J. was envious. I was halfway through my second bottle when I realised I hadn't packed nearly enough for the day.

Afterwards, we went to Leipzig train station. Not because we came by train, or because it's such a breathtaking piece of architecture, but because it's got shops. Lots and lots and lots of shops. It has a mall, essentially, that's about as big, if not bigger, than the trainy part of the station. And it's open til nine pm on a Saturday in Germany. By the standards of people looking for STUFF at six pm during the weekend, that's the holy grail. So we windowshopped some more, now shielded from the sun's evil rays, and bought some more things. I got some peanut butter and some emergency rations strawberry fanta. I hope the peanut butter is as tasty as the one I bought in the local supermarket. Oh, and we got condoms and sticky putty. We'd run out of both, though not simultaneously and during the same event. Boyfriend and I aren't that kinky.

By that time, the ice cream had been digested. Boyfriend was hungry too. J. and W. had proposed they pay for our food and join us for dinner, which we had gratefully accepted. We ended up at Pizza Hut. It's still overpriced in Germany, though not to the same criminal leven as in Belgium. It's still greasy. We got large soda waters with apple juice and cheesy crust pizzas, and I demonstrated once again that I was raised in a family that believed in clearing your plate and not ordering stuff in a restaurant you weren't going to finish. Boyfriend was raised to eat until your body said 'no more' and then take leftovers to the fridge. He got three pieces and still fit into his jeans upon leaving, I was struggling not to look six months pregnant.

And then came the ride back. Because it's so hot, windows could be opened without seeming rude, so you are spared the rant on smoking in small spaces for tonight, dear reader. Though I did have an epiphany.

If you live long enough with people who revere quiet as a way of life, eventually, some of their behavior seems like a natural thing to do. Like turning up the volume on the loudest radio channel at ten pm. You don't do that in my family, because we spent a long time having sleeping kids in the backseat, some of which turned into hypersensitive teenagers by the time the youngest grew up. My first thought when I realised a) it was probably how W. was staying awake and b) I wanted to shout 'turn that down, there's people trying to sleep in here' was 'oh no, I turned into my mom while I wasn't looking'. A terrifying thought at age twenty-two, let me tell you.

It started to rain by the time we got home, cooling down our overheated piece of planet a bit. Heavenly, when you're not walking through it. We stripped out of our sweaty clothes as soon as we got in, hoping against hope that it would somehow make the sweat evaporate quicker. It revealed two things to us. We need to do laundry tomorrow and we both got sunburned.

And now I'm going to shower to try and cool off.