Friday, January 27, 2012

Recovery

For the most part I have been trying to post things related to our travels or things related to life in a small Romanian village.  I try not to go on personal tangents about bad foreign policy or the oft-idiotic mainstream media coverage of natural disasters and civil strife in developing countries.  I try to keep it focused.

I suppose this post is about travel in a round about way;  the business of post-travel recovery and the resettling of ourselves into our tiny Romanian village.

See, holidays are not my thing so I can't really appreciate what most of America and the West goes through on January 2nd. I don't understand the let-down and the bewildering feelings of "what do I do now?" and "how do I stop single-handedly consuming the caloric intake of small southeast asian country?"
Except I kind of do.  Because I have the post-travel blahs.
From what I hear, these sound an awful lot like the post-holiday blahs.  Maybe it's just something to do with the season, I don't know.  But no matter how sternly I lecture myself on how I'm going to start eating well and going for long walks instead of napping in the afternoon, all I manage to do is sit around in my fat pants and lament over how the floors need to be vacuumed.

This was my dinner. I won't say for how many nights in a row.


You think I made this up just for the blog.  No.  I really ate this for dinner.
It's an unappetizing cornucopia, spotlighting some of the worst foods the world has to offer: the peanut butter we shipped from the States, the Pringles (paprika flavor if you notice) we bought in Austria.
I don't even know where that candy bar came from, I'm guessing someone dropped by during the holidays and left it here for the boys but I saw it first so it's mine.
At least the pickles were fresh from the market in Budapest.  As is the palinka.
You know what's really sad, I don't even like Pringles.

But that probably explains why this is all I can fit into these days:


When it gets warm enough I remove the sweater and change the shoes:


See how I photographed it like they do in fashion magazines to try and make it look less pathetic.  Also, as unflattering as it all looks on the floor, it's even worse on me.  Really.

Tell me you all go through this in one way or another in your lives.

I know, it's January 27th and I need to snap out of it already.  Because you all have, right?  After you read this you'll head out to the gym or walk yourselves into the kitchen to consume that head of organic broccoli you bought because you know its good for you and you know you're supposed to eat things like that.

And I'm going to do that too.  Because we've had snowfall and it's a glorious winter wonderland out there and I need to go photograph it so that I can have something decent to post for you all.  Because I feel badly about this.  So badly that I think I need another candy bar and a spoonful of peanut butter as a chaser.  Then I'm going to go pull on my Ugg-knock offs and find Mihai because we've got another trip to plan.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Fat clothes and peanut butter for dinner, honey, I've done that a thousand times and I gave up worrying about it a long time ago. Love your blog, can't wait to see you soon.

Anonymous said...

Warning, you might get stoned at the Bastille If you go to France with your socks in Crocs.