Exhausted

ex·haust [ig-zawst] 

verb (used with object)

1. to drain of strength or energy, wear out, or fatigue greatly, as a person: I have exhausted myself working.

2. to use up or consume completely; expend the whole of: He exhausted a fortune in stock-market speculation.

3. to draw out all that is essential in (a subject, topic, etc.); treat or study thoroughly.

4. to empty by drawing out the contents: to exhaust a tank of fuel oil.

5. to create a vacuum in.

 

Origin: 1515-25; 1895-1900 for def 11; Latin exhaustus emptied out, drained out, past participle of exhaurire.

Synonyms: 1. tire, enervate, prostrate, debilitate.

I think numbers one through four all apply to me today. I am so tired I can barely think straight.  Its my own doing and I wouldn't undo it for anything.

 

I went away to Bali for the weekend with two friends.  Nora who was my visitor from the States last week, and Donna, another American slogging away here in the Big Durian. We rushed through Friday evening traffic and hopped on a plane over to the Isle of Other.  As social coordinator, I'd made reservations and we went straight to the hotel to change clothes and drop our bags.

We headed out in search of dinner at midnight.  Nora disappeared into the dark to find a friend.  Donna and I had a fantastic time people watching.  Bali felt younger than when I was there a couple weeks ago.  There were lots of Australian schoolies (high schoolers and families there on winter vacation) and at 29 I felt old. We had quite a laugh drinking 1/2 liter beverages from plastic ducks while commenting on everyone who went by from the gorgeous to the bloodied to the tragic.

Saturday Nora was still MIA so Donna and I lounged by the pool trying to recover our strength. Eventually we made our way to Mojo's Flying Burrito.  It was a recommendation from another friend in Jakarta and it was stellar.  He didn't inflate the truth.  Mission burritos, nachos, tacos.  Mexican food like I've never found in Asia. A meandering pace through Jalan Legian as we picked up gelato and headed for a nap.  I had all intention of napping until I struck up conversation with a couple Australian guys.  Brandt is a teacher and away the conversation went.  His brother Malcolm and old friend Rod made us a quartet. Six hours later we were still sat at the pool tell stories and drinking beer.  Rod had gone, Donna and Nora joined. The ambient was cool and relaxed, the beers icy cold, the conversation stimulating.  It was a night that lasted into the morning.  

Sunday proved tougher still to wake up.  Donna, thankfully, banged on my door and we shuffled off to the beach.  She's ridiculously pale so we couldn't stay long but any beach is better than no beach. We packed up and checked out leaving our bags for later.  Mojo's was a lunch repeat and again, did not disappoint.  Donna went for a shop and I headed back to the pool. That evening I picked up a few bits and pieces at the shops near the hotel, we grabbed a bite where I had the best caipiroska of my life, and hailed a cab to the airport.  

It was a big full busy weekend but things had mostly gone swimmingly. Nora left us Saturday night and stayed with a friend before heading to the airport.  I don't envy her the long flight.  I'll have my own soon.  Sunday night Donna and I went to the airport with and hour and a half to our 22:15 flight.  On check in we were told the flight was an hour delayed.  By the time we got off the ground it was almost three hours delayed.  That meant instead of getting to my house about midnight I arrived home at 2:30.  The 6 am alarm was especially painful.

After five classes, more rigamarole with my teaching "partner" and lots of marking, I'm beat.  Toast. Dead where I sit.  I am. . . beyond exhausted. Though on the back of a weekend in Bali, I wouldn't have it any other way.