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The content of this blog does not reflect the positions of the Peace Corps and is solely the responsibility of the author.

In Which I Have a First World Problem

The carpet in the hallways of the nice hotel where I am staying (and someone else is footing the bill for) is ugly.  I have to look at it on my way to the nice breakfast that I am also not paying for where I can eat as much cantaloupe and dragonfruit and cunning little pink jellyroll pastries washed down with really good coffee as I want.  I have to look at the carpet on my way to and from the gym where I have begun taking pole dance classes at corporate expense. I have to look at it on my way to work in ridiculous Tanzanian clothes because most of my sober western stuff didn't survive two years of Africa, so I sit in a car with a laptop on my bright pastel-clad legs and tell people to do things to the car and write times in a notebook like I'm important or smart or something.  Then I come back to the hotel where all my things have been tidied for me and the carpet is still ugly.  So I go to nice dinners, also at corporate expense, to eat and drink amazing (or possibly normal?  I don't know anymore) things.  The carpet is still ugly. Darlings, I have a first world problem!

Last week I was a Peace Corps volunteer with an oozing pus problem.  This week I am a pampered consultant in China.  I don't understand how my life happens.  That is not a complaint.


The Pizza Hut, Pizza Hut, has calamari, caviar-stuffed shrimp balls,
Malaysian sauced shrimp spaghetti, potato and bacon soup, and of course, pizza.

How is my life this luxurious? 

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