Chicken soup for the soul

When we  are depressed, we search for comfort. Given my recent state, I was in need of comfort. I've been ill recently, and have missed out on a bunch of mid-terms, and haven't been at college for a week. I've basically been struck down with a virus (for all you regular blog-junkies I apologise for the repeat) but I had a mono scare. I went to the doc's and despite adoring my accent and asking about our native furry friends Down Under I've been bed bound. On top of that, the weather is getting so chilly my nose hurts when I go outside - in my experience a sure sign that winter is settling in. I've also admittedly been sleeping all day and night, so lack of sunshine has caused me to sink into a deep depression, and homesickness (for the first time) hit me this week. I've been in the States for nearly 3 months now. My little bro sends me selfies sometimes, which cheers me up, but then I write him MONSTROUS essays about stuff (mostly American sport) and then I get a classic 11-year old 'haha, cool :)' response. Le sigh. It was just a sense of everything coming down I suppose; I was ill, behind on work, all my friends are feeling sort of the same, and I think truth be told I just needed a break from everything and everybody. There are always people around and something happening, and tensions have been running high in the group - just because we are in in such close proximity with each other 24/7. People need a break.

But you know, we have recouped over the last couple of days, and I did a fair bit of skyping with people at home and I'm back on my feet. And also, I made chicken soup. It's delicious, it's hot and hearty, it reminds me of home and it feeds not only my belly, but also my soul. The problem is storing the bucket loads of soup I've made, but I managed it in the end.

And also, because everyone was at an all-time low, on Sunday night, Annie ordered pizza right to our apartment door and we all lounged about and ate it in our pjs. It's good to have mates to chat to about your problems, because I thought I was alone in feeling generally down, but it turns out there were a lot of other people feeling that way too. So with the help of good old 'Merican pizza, a movie and friends, we all left feeling a lot better. Human company may just come in as a close second to chicken soup in lifting one's spirits.

Now I'm tackling my studies, cause I've been off sick...truth be told I extended my sick leave for an extra day or two, and I have to dodge professors on campus when I'm sneaking  around because I'm meant to be bed bound. Basically, some teachers think I'm still ill, but I still have to attend some classes...the classes that the exams I didn't post-pone....so I don't get behind on those classes as well. Basically, campus is a mine field and I have to be sneaky. It's fun. Kind of like a game. I hear parental figures raising eyebrows (yes, that's right, you can hear people raising their eyebrows ok, whatever) and my approach to college classes, but dw, I'm absolutely smashing out all my coursework. I'll send you a copy of my transcript. 

Another thing that I'm doing to keep myself on my toes is this little game I call Tricked Ya. With recent clock-changes, we have gained an hour of time here on the East Coast, so I've set my laptop and phone to the right time, but not my watch. So when I wake up in the morning and check my watch, I have an immediate FREAK OUT cause it displays a time one hour later than t really is. So I assume I have like, 20 minutes to get to class, and I jump out of bed and dash around to get ready in a hurry. That is, until I'm all ready to go and then I realise that I never pushed my watch back an hour and I actually have an extra hour before class to study. Genius. So I essentially create study time for myself. It's utter brilliance. Wonder how long it'll last. So far, I've tricked my mind for three days in a row.

Here's a bad thing that happened to me recently; I inhaled laundry detergent carrying a cup of it in my mouth down to the basement the other day. My hands were full of laundry (btw cause I don't have a hamper, it results in me consistently dropping knickers on one of the many flights of stairs when I carry my laundry down to be washed. Oh yes, that's a FUN game when I realise and have to run up and down the stairs trying to find them before someone else does, and NO I don't take the elevator cause I'm trying to be all green, remember?). So yes, I literally washed my mouth out with soap. But here's something funny to counterbalance that; Tim managed to convince people in his film class that the currency in Australia is called the dollary-doo. Yes, that's right. 'That'll be 3.50 dollary-doos for your latte, thanks.' The dollary-doo. What a joke.

But yes, speaking of lattes, I just did a late night stroll to Starbucks (I was also meant to go to the store and refill our chocolate jar, cause Katherine always fills it up with sweet treats and I coincidentally eat them....ALL THE TIME) to get a pumpkin spiced latte. Whenever one feels crappy, homesick or alienated in this strange and bizarre country a trip to Starbucks will always lift one's spirits. I was approached by an Albanian man who said he 'simply had to come over to speak to me because I was so tall and beautiful' which lifted my spirits, because, well, yay. Red nose, clumsy, stumbling in probably looking vague and aloof, fumbling with my numb fingers I'm allegedly beautiful. And the staff at Starbucks chatted to me about Australia for a bit, one girl studied in Sydney and this kid asked me if I use the phrase 'the dingo ate my baby' all the time. I kind of just looked confused...before lying and saying yes, yes I do and actually, did you know in Australia I'd be paying for this with the dollary-doo. 

Then he said 'the coffee's on me'. Awesome.

And just like that, a view of the city by night reminded me I was in one of the most amazing cities, studying at a fantastic school, in a country, where, although I might be homesick, friendship is never far away and you've gotta hand it to the Americans for being so hilarious that being in there mere presence cheers you up instantly. So although I'm going to need to stay up till the early hours of the morning to get this work done; I have my coffee, I have Katherine's chocolates, I have the comforting thought that some Eastern European man who I'm never going to see again thinks I'm beautiful and if, after all that I'm still down in my boots - I have my chicken soup for the soul.