Day 1, Hour 34

In college, we had three qualifiers that, when accomplished, signified that a new day had begun, regardless of how many hours one had (or more practically had not) slept the night before. The acts were simple, practical, and overall good life choices:

1. Had you showered?

2. Had you changed your clothes?

3. Had you eaten breakfast?

If you could answer "yes" to two out of those three questions (really, we weren't asking a whole lot), than a new day had indeed started, and you should go grab some coffee and be bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, or at least at your class hoping information was absorbed through osmosis.

I ate breakfast.  That's the only one I can say actually happened "today," whatever that might be (thank you, Delta, for ensuring that I'm one-third legitimate!).  Now, it's pretty well-documented that I don't do schedules well. Or rather, I do spontaneity better. I also much rather arrive early than late. So when I say I got to Seville 4 hours earlier than I planned, that's just par for the course. Let me explain.

After a successful and timely flight to Madrid (minus the lovely kids who tag-teamed the crying game throughout the fight), I got to the train station at 8:30 a.m.--and discovered there was a 9:00 to Sevilla! Since I didn't feel like waiting around for hours, I went to the Information girl to ask if I may advance my ticket. She must have had a really good time last night, because she did not seem like she was having a good morning. Let's just say that, between my rusty Spanish and her hangover, it took some time to figure it all out. But by 11:30 this morning, I was in Sevilla! Travel improvisation for the win.

I get to Seville, stash my crazy-heavy suitcase in a locker at the train station, and set out exploring. Not an over-the-moon, shoot for the stars, World Series kind of excursion, but by no means a failure. I held up my tradition of getting ridiculously lost amid the web of Sevillian roads that makes Boston look good,  and made up for any excess sitting I might have done earlier that "day." If only I had thought to change before stashing my suitcase, I'd actually think this traveling pulled off without a hitch. It would have been a two-day affair, and I wouldn't think twice about it. Nothing quite beats my self-consciousness when I realized that I was meeting my classmates in the same dress I'd had on for over 30 hours, and that I hadn't brushed my teeth in that time, either, since I hadn't yet gone to sleep or woken up. Overshare?  Sorry.

Classes start tomorrow! I'm choosing to go to sleep early, wake up when I'm supposed to, and therefore disbelieve in that whole "jet-lag" thing. All without coffee. Ready, go.