Well I Went to the Post Office ...
Hey, today is the 10th anniversary of the TMI Nuclear Accident. I wonder how they are celebrating back home. I was in fourth grade when the accident occurred. Very bizarre day, that was. We weren't quite sure what was going on, but it wasn't good. Throughout the day parents were coming in and taking their kids out of the class. We thought we were pretty funny when we all laid down on the ground and "played dead" after lunch, before the teacher came back in the room. She didn't think it was quite as funny.
Anyway, Viv woke me up at 8:45 a.m. for breakfast, which was a much-too-exciting array of biscuits and cocoa. Afterward I came up to Viv's room and fell asleep in Angie's bed, only to be awoken by The Old Woman at 11 a.m. I got up like I think she requested, sat in the other room, and waited for it to be cleaned. When it wasn't, I went back in and fell asleep again until the cleaning lady came in. She said she would go and clean the other room first, which was very nice of her, but a few moments later old Beelzebub came back in and kicked me out.
So now that I was reluctantly up, I did a bit of writing, listening to music, etc., until the others returned. I was informed that it was now official... they called the agent back and confirmed the flat off Grand Via. Now they'll have to inform The Old Man that they're moving out at the end of the month.
We ate lunch, which was pretty good, and after Viv went to the bank and we finally had some money again, everyone went back for their afternoon classes. When everyone returned from class, Viv and I went to the post office to send all of our mail. It costs 69 pesetas to send a postcard to the United States (35p, or about 50 cents), but it costs only 115 pesetas to send the big letters. The stamps tasted icky, though.
We returned and rested until we were treated to the most repulsive meal I have ever seen: Red (purple, actually) cabbage, followed by cold fish with mayonnaise. I ate almost none of it, and after the meal Viv and I walked up to the nearby Wendy's and had hamburgers.
Now fully satisfied, we returned to the Residencia to talk, play cards and once again not do all that much. It was Kurt and Angie, Raquel and Jerome (not Geronimo, as I thought earlier), and Viv and me in the room for the final moments of the evening.
Pictured is one of the Madrid post cards I sent, this one of El Prado for my parents. It was actually one of several I put into one envelope, then had my parents hand them out to people, in the interest of saving money on those icky-tasting stamps.