Disappointed In Myself

Enough transpired over the day Thursday that made this trip go from perfect to, "Oh, this is a city ... with people."  Some jostling, some rudeness, some incompetence while walking.  (Won both of my soccer matches, though, and now I have a La Liga parlay going -- go, Athletico Madrid and Sevilla!)

But I feel more disappointed in myself.  I spent the day with my uncle going to The Big Buddha, a 34-meter-high statue of you-know-who.  I'm glad we spent that time together, and it was something I wanted to do.  But I could have done so much better.  First of all, I was supposed to call my unc at 11, and through a combination of laziness and looking up football betting tips, I got done showering and calling him at 11:30.  Things snowballed when, due to my micro-room, I couldn't call him until noontime.

I could have used that hour because I did not wind up seeing Grandmother this day.  I did call her, and she seemed to understand who I was.  But my stays with her have shrunk through the week, from three or so hours Monday to two Tuesday to 20 minutes Wednesday to a frickin' phone call yesterday.  My actions indicate that I do not want to see her.  I do, but ... actions, right?

I am determined to spend the afternoon with her.

Meanwhile, after dinner tonight (he paid, again) my uncle asked me if I wanted to have lunch with him tomorrow (well, this) afternoon.  I stammered out the truth that I thought of going to a place by myself.  And now I feel bad for not wanting to spend time with him.  The place I wanted to go doesn't seem so hot, so maybe I'll call him later and see if he does want to eat.  But I feel bad for rejecting him.  Heck, I feel bad for lying to him when I said I saw Grandmother yesterday afternoon.

Yeah -- people say a week isn't enough.  I think maybe it is.