What a relief it is to be in a house of young women with suitcases here and there. I don't have a lot to do until tomorrow evening when I teach Patricia in Jerez, then back here again Friday morning for Zaizi. I will not be teaching them in the summer either, I just found out. Which means I have a lot to do today, though it is all ambiguous: figure out how to survive.
Make some posters, try to figure out other ways of making a living... (I hate that it is so random for me... that I have to think up something, rather than just have something occur to me that I'd like to do).
Take Faro, who looks dejected after imploring me for some of my tomato and aguacate sandwich, for a walk. Go talk to Maria, maybe try to get Paco to do something about the computer he sold me that has to be turned off and on again or fiddled with every time I want to connect to the internet.

Even Marcelino is away Wednesday to Sunday this week.

As far as my former housing situation, I don't know if a debriefing will help me, but this is essentially it: Take two people who are generally nice and not all that bad of persons, but who have problems trusting others in general: one who is very nervous and has an aggressive sort of energy at times, who figures that she has complete say over all details since it is her home, and the other who is unable to be anything but polite when someone is giving her this kind of energy which sits very poorly with her. They do not mix. Disaster ensues.

One thing my family is incredibly mistaken about me is my so called 'easy going' nature. Polite to a fault, yes, able to suppress large degrees of displeasure, yes; able to hold in a huge amount... yes, until I cannot stand it.