8/Sunday back from Antigua

            I got worms.  Maybe.  Definitely probably.  The local Comalapan doctor thought I had Guardia but I don’t think he gave the worm scenario proper consideration because of my translators embarrassment towards describing the sphincter tickling and general down there movement I told her to tell the doc.

            Just drank some liquid worm egg killer that came in a box with a clown on the label and tasted like pink chalk, we’ll see if it works.  It doesn’t feel right.  I feel violated and disconcerted.  It’s all kind of funny in that twisted laugh-out-of-nothing-else-to-do sort of situation, like in a pathetic self-preservation and copping kind of laughter where you wince a little more than smile.  Kind of funny.  Not really.

            I feel like a swallowed a dancing feather laced flag and it’s windy down there.

            My fellow volunteer Bella said “it could be worse,” and I paused for a while, trying to think of something specific that could be worse and I said “death would be.”  She said, “you could be pregnant,” and I said, “I basically am.”