perspective

I had dedicated last night to working and just couldn't bring myself to, then tried to get up at 9am today but turned the alarm off and conked out for another two hours. I am now sat here in an empty house with no distractions (for once!) and an afternoon begging to be worked in but I just. can't. slash. won't.

This is really taking its toll on me now. I have been in this tiny room for I think about 3 weeks now, since my attempts to try and study in libraries failed miserably upon discovering the one here in Viña and in Valpo are both closed... I am two down one to go (research already been started on the last one), and some more work needed on my translation essay too.

Last night I had tea with Zelma and Laura Dyson; the fewest of us that have been together in the house since everyone arrived 2 weeks ago. Zelma and I ended up talking about what it was like when I first arrived in October, and about Exequiel passing away. It was really nice to chat to her, it made me realise how long I've been here living with her, and just how fond of her I am. I do really feel at home here now, and for the first time I thought about how sad I will be to leave this house and my Chilean hostess.

It also gave me a bit of perspective: Zelma is still waiting for her pension to come through, 6 months after Exequiel's passing, and she was telling me that if it wasn't for me being here and paying rent she doesn't know how she would have coped financially. It seems really Godsent now in hindsight my arriving here one week before he died, not even thinking about me helping her have some company during the days, but from a purely financial perspective for her.

It's definitely been a nice wake up call to remember I am not just here to write essays and sit in a bedroom moving my laptop around as I search for wifi, but then I have lived here, with a family, and been through lots with them.

Although taking my eyes off my now trivial seeming essays is not motivating me to work now, is it??

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