A Nerd in a Cave
The first few days of any significant overseas trip, I'm a jerk. It's not just the jetlag that's poisoning my attitude; it's the lack of context. I get twitchy when I don't know where my stuff is. Combine that with the fact that no one is speaking English, there are two toilets in the bathroom, and I have no idea what time it is, and you can begin to understand why I'm in such a foul mood.
Three days in, I'm sleeping, I know it's called a bidet, and I'm working hard on my Italian "R" and "U" sounds. I'm having fun, but I'm still thinking about my lack of context. I'm thinking about the familiar place I've built so that I can work.
I have a cave. It came as part of the house. I didn't paint the walls blood ...