Sun

If it’s not one thing it’s, truly, another. Now that my internal organs are functioning correctly (Thanks, Cipro!), my external organ, my skin, is burnt beet red. And everyone I complain to at home about this doesn’t give me pity, but tells me how much frost they have on the ground and how much they miss sunshine. Cry me a snow bank.

But this is fun: A circle. When I was sick at work last spring, my boss in the DC office of the INGO I work for gave me cough drops. She gave me handfuls, more than I needed, and so many that I had plenty to stuff into my medicine bag when I was packing for Congo. Today at work, my boss here, at the same INGO only across a huge ocean and many miles of land, was sick at work. So I gave my different boss the same cough drops that were given to me at the different office of the same INGO half a year ago. On a different continent under the same sun.

I love shit like that. Circles and the passage of time and the continuity of stories. Circles, make, me, happy!