I loathe getting ready to go somewhere

I don’t know what it says about me that as I am packing for my return to the land of the morning calm, these are the things that send me into a fit of profanity:

Fuck! If I don’t check a bag, I can’t take my Leatherman or a corkscrew. God dammit!

I have only two hours between my arrival in ‘Frisco and my international departure. I would hate to end up at the Travelodge again.

And you know what’s going to throw me: the $200 worth of over-the-counter, all-natural, post-menupausal supplements and multivitamins that I agreed to get for a teacher at school and the Levis jeans I told my host mom I would pick up for the kids. Things that are more expensive in Korea than at WalMart. The teacher actually handed me $200 in cash at school one day. The jeans will be completely out of my own back pockets. I feel like they will pay me back as money is very closely accounted for in that house. Or maybe “Christmas present” meant from me. Oh the language barrier. All I got was $3 diary with a lock and key, some hair clips, and an obscene amount of dried seaweed.

I suppose I’ll just have to drink Korean wine that comes in screw cap bottles.

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