It's 2:06 PM

 There's really no sense in reserving an entire Saturday for studying if I'm going to wake up at 12 PM and lay in bed until mid-afternoon, sipping bad instant coffee and listening to the NPR 24-hour program stream. Had I really made an effort, I could have gotten up at 9 and spent a relaxing couple of hours wandering the MACBA or CCCB before committing myself to the UB library. 

These days, though, I feel pretty stuck. A visiting professor asked me yesterday at our program dinner "what I did" in Barcelona, and I realized, to my shame, that the answer isn't so far from "absolutely nothing." Had it been "study," I wouldn't be scrambling to finish all of my mandatory reading for my history class. Had it been "museums," I wouldn't be completely unaware of everything that's going on at MNAC and other Bcn cultural staples. Had it been "volunteer," I wouldn't still be making excuses for not getting in touch with Amics de la Gent Gran.

I'm starting to feel a little bit like author David Sedaris in Paris. I see movies. I drink coffee. I walk around with an irritated look on my face, convinced that none of the passers-by understands how I feel, as if I'm somehow oppressed, worthy of being the protagonist of some sort of existentialist novel. Unfortunately, unlike Sedaris, I don't have any book deals, and I'm not old enough to resign myself to bitter creative nonfiction or the life of a chain-smoking expat. 

I'm going to take a shower. I'm going to buy groceries so that I don't have to keep eating PB&J. I'm going to finish my reading. Then, I'm going to plan a lovely Sunday at the museum. 

P.S. If you remember my first post about protests at the Autonomous University, here are some photos of how my colleagues have chosen to focus their efforts against the Bologna Process: click here.