Tuesday, July 14, 2015
We had just enough rain over the weekend that I can clearly see those majestic Andes Mountains for the first time in almost three months. I could be doing other things, but I only want to sit quietly and soak in this view.
Earlier, I went to an expat meeting. I didn't know anyone at the meeting and the inevitable getting-to-know-you questions were asked.
"So, what do you do here in Chile?"
I get asked this question a lot, usually by well-meaning people. It's a normal question.
Since I'm not here for a job, if I'm feeling cantankerous, sometimes I reply, "Nothing." That's usually a conversation stopper, so instead I often say, "I'm retired," which doesn't fare much better.
This frequently earns me a skeptical once-over. "Really?" as if they can't believe it. "What do you do all day?"
"Well, let's see..." I laugh because explaining my schedule is complicated. Should I tell them that I'm an excellent time-waster? Or that every day is different? I usually launch into a spiel about classes and workshops, which satisfies their curiosity.
"Oh, so you're a teacher?" Not really, not at the moment. I haven't quite learned how to admit the truth, that I'm a writer.
Except on days like today when it's far too tempting to sit and watch the sun light up the snow-capped Cordillera. Today, I'm definitely a flojera, a lazy mountain watcher. Can you blame me?
Author of Penny Possible & A Million Sticky Kisses