Remember what I wrote at the end of yesterday's entry re: getting horizontal? HAH!!! A friend (Wolfgang, from language class) called, I wound up going out for tapas, then dinner, then hanging out in a Cuban bar conversing with Wolfgang and a mighty interesting Cuban guy named William until late. The food didn't agree with my innards, I didn't get anywhere enough sleep the last two nights, today my body let me know loudly and clearly that it was unhappy.
An eternal day in which I felt nearly useless, crowned by three hours on my feet at the Prado Museum with an intimate group from school, getting far more information than I could possibly process about El Greco, Velazquez and Goya (presented in excellent fashion by Ángel, one of the owners of the language school), wanting to be home in bed.
And now that I'm home, bed is where I will go. This time, in the immortal words of Bullwinkle J. Moose, for sure.
