It's 5:15 am and I'm wide awake.
I've been waking up about every hour. Hubby is experiencing the same thing. We feel like we're waking up to catch our breath. We're blaming our weird night of sleep on the altitude (over 2,600m; to compare: Ottawa is at 70m and PauP at 17m--I can't guarantee that my sources are accurate). From now on, we'll blame it all on Ms. Alti.
I had a hard time falling asleep. Reading didn't help speed up the process. Watching a show on Netflix didn't tire my eyes as it usually does. (Why is Netflix everywhere else better than the one in Canada? I mean, I have access to so many more shows here. But I digress.)
I was looking forward to a good night sleep. In fact, all the conditions were met for me to catch a very serious snooze. I was supposed to just fall into Morpheus' arms (is that an English expression too?). The neighborhood is quiet. It's very cool (like Furcy or Mont-Tremblant in May). The bed is decent. And I was just tired enough.
We called it a night at about 8 pm, right after dinner. By the time desert came, we were both yawning.
We went straight back to our comfy room in the blue house. On another note, when it comes to addresses, Colombia = Haiti.
Not only did we get the address and instructions for the taxi driver, complete with turn left at the police academy and don't use the exit by the light. We also got the color of the house.
So far, all addresses we get are complete with intersections. This reminds me of my friends from Cap-Hatien who sometimes use intersections. (Ri 4 L)
Right now, birds are chirping. They've been at it since 4, the last time I was up. Considert his, NYC and Mexico DF are the only North American cities that are bigger than Bogota. Yet, birds are chirping! This is fascinating, don't you think.
What do you?! Writing tired my eyes. It's 5:46. Morpheus (who looks nothing like Laurence Fishburn) is calling my name.