I could write about so many things right now. I could tell you about how absolutely horrible the drivers are here, I am terrified of highways, and terrified of crossing even the residential street (especially since a driver tried to run a red light on my green, and “cleverly” swerved, I suppose in his mind it was a sophisticated way to show his driving skills and not hit me, the bastard!). I could tell you that I told a pretty awesome joke, where if you know that the word “decision” is the brand name of a cachaça (booze), and in Portuguese you can “take” (tomar) a drink, but also “take” a decision, I told my teacher that to “take decision” is to drink cachaça (ha ha ha, I know, pretty clever of me!). But that has all been overshadowed by the fact that I was changing my pants and I found a scab on my upper thigh. But upon closer look, it was sort of coming off, so I sort of brushed it since I didn’t remember getting a cut there. And then, upon closer look, it had LEGS. And then I tried to get closer, but couldn’t, so I decided that on an off chance it wasn’t a scab, I’d pull it to see. So I pulled, and it was a BUG. DISGUSTING!!!! Sooooo gross. So I started checking my entire body for them. Blech. And then I saw it fell on the floor, so I put a cup on it to preserve it to show Dr. A in the event that it means I could DIE. But then I went online and he was there, and I told him, and he said it’s a carrapato and that I probably got it at the farm and I won’t die. And I got home 1.5 days ago, so it’s been FEASTING ON MY BLOOD FOR 1.5 DAYS. REVOLTING.
Ahhhh, revolting!
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