It's been awhile. Sorry, anyone who enjoys my thoughts. You're welcome, to the others. Right now, I have a case of Delhi Belly. You all know Delhi Belly. It's what happens when you eat something on the "no no list". It's what just made me dash to the bathroom right after I finished that sentence.
I hurt all over. When in India, man... be CAREFUL. I wanted a soda when I was in the mall a few days ago and they asked me "fresh lime soda?" Sure! I love fresh lime soda. They take limes, squeeze it into a glass. Add salt and sugar. Add soda water (can't go wrong with soda water).
I should have known. I have a sixth sense for bad water. My mouth feels like wet cotton balls. But I drank it anyway because I was thiiiiirsty.
So now I pay for it. Fever. Body aches. And the Delhi Belly which assures me that I cannot be outside 10 feet from a bathroom at all times.
Luckily Karan ran downstairs and got me some antibiotics. Yup. Ran downstairs to the pharmacy, picked up some antibiotics from the man who stands at the desk, and came back upstairs with 3 pills that cost.. mm... maybe about a dollar. Not because they're the bootleg kind. But because that's how NICE healthcare is here.
So I've got this pill in my tummy that I'm hoping is like Arnold Schwarzenegger with a machine gun that says "Hasta la Vista" to all of the little critters that are making me sick. They're like little Gollums. My stomach is an epic. Terminator meets Lord of the Rings.
Before that I was working at a "my mind gets dumber every day" kind of job. I scanned photos. Albums after huge ass albums of photos. Some of them are pretty. I stole a few. Here's one:
I left though, because I felt my intelligence leaking out my ears, and I wasn't going to finish the job before I left the country, so I ended when I said I'd end (2 weeks), and now I have one last week to enjoy India.
They weren't that nice at the office, either. Just creepy. The touchy kind. The "hey, want to come back to my place?" kind...
So I left and felt cartoon birds on my shoulders and music in my ears and a pep in my step.
I'm doing another job, though. The same one designing movie posters for the big dude with the dogs that look like throw pillows. Remember him? Turns out, he's a picky guy to work for. Not picky in an experienced kind of way, but in a "could we scatter balloons everywhere?" and "maybe make the dots in the title into smiley faces" kind of way. It's exhausting.
And he never likes the characters I put on the poster. I put exactly who he tells me, yes. But he just emailed me and said "Sanjay is looking a little bald." Yes. He is looking bald. But why the hell tell me that? Tell that to Sanjay. Tell him that he should get some liquid or plugs to fix that problem. All I've got is google images and photoshop and I can't add hair to THIS just yet (see image right).
Bah. So that's been my life. There hasn't been much to talk about in my little box of horrors at the photo scanning office because all the days are the same, nor is there really much to share about my stomach problems. You want the details, listen to Oprah talk about colon cleanse sometime on her show.
I'm back in the states on Monday. Yea! Or nay?