We were late to training again today. My brain is fried from language. It's too much, but then not enough like Spanish to be at all helpful. Makes me want to kill myself.
I also want to kill other people. Stop staring at me and stop calling me mujungo. I hate it's guts.
Tindi mujungo. Ndi Kathryn.
Why doesn't that work? Because even though I may have spelled it wrong there, I'm pretty sure I'm pronouncing it properly which in the end is all that really matters.
Fucking stress. Fucking people. Fuck me.
Wasn't in the mood today. Yeah. Today I'm a bitch. Today I'm tired of eating starches. I don't want anymore matoke. I don't want anymore beans. I don't want anything! No more bananas which I'm hating more than often. Hating my life right now.
Talked about going home and how easy it would be. Talked about struggles and possibly sucking. I don't want to suck. I don't want all of this to be in vain, to be for nothing. It would mean that all these struggles were struggles for struggles sake. I can't.
I have been shoving things in my mouth today that I just don't want to eat. It's messing with my pH balance. I don't smell like I used to. I want my scent back. Everything smells the same. Must smells the same, vagina smells the same. It's this same musty odor. Mine isn't strong like I've smelled, but there is this faint you've been eating nothing but rice and beans and shit that we want you to stop eating smell. I feel like the little spices they do use are seeping out of every possible pore.
I don't like it. I just want my scent back.
I'm sweating out Uganda.
Yuck.
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