Monday morning is grey and chilly, and water droplets drip down most of the windows as it is thankfully warmer inside than out. Most of us had slept in Efie's room last night because the party downstairs for dia de los amigos was too loud. Even on the roof I could hear the thumping of Sweet Dreams are Made of These, and Like a Virgin as every yells "WOooooHHH!!!" in the middle of every chorus right before Madonna claims he makes her feel like she's being touched for the very first time. I come back downstairs with Josh as he gets up for work and snuggle with the covers trying to get another hour of sleep before going to the bank to cash a check that we desperately need cashed so we can eat today but that I'm dreading cashing because I have to go to a bank a half hour trip from here. There are things racing through my mind, which is unusual for me since I moved here. Normally I sleep the sleep of the innocent with not a thing passing through my conscious as I drift easily away, but at this moment I know there is no more sleep for me so I get up to make some breakfast. Amazingly I am hungry even though I ate half a pizza last night. The pizza was homemade by our friend Noel who is also a professional chef and makes pizza even better than Ulises. Of course the sauce Josh made was also a key ingredient.
Someone has already done the bulk of the cleaning from last night, I'm guessing after everyone left and right before they fell into bed and passed out in the new silence that ensues when the computer is shut, the bass is given a rest and our neighbors and us can finally fall asleep and the last guess is walked downstairs and the door locked behind them.
Putting away the dishes is like playing Tetris backwards, a perfectly piled mess that I am careful to disassemble for fear of the startling sound of crashing dishes in this amazingly quiet house. I go around and close all the windows now that the smell of stale cigarettes has been dispersed for now and get to the business of making breakfast. Fried egg on toast with butter and marmite accompanied by some maté cocido should do the trick and I set about timing it all correctly so that the tea and the food are both perfectly hot when I eat them. I pick at raisins left over from yesterday's oatmeal raisin cookies that I sold yesterday at the market as I soak up the solitude like I would sun on a warm day in Argentina's July knowing it won't last for long.