Our time in Puerto Viejo sped by!
One morning, Sharone, the world-famous eater, overslept for breakfast. Rather than miss out on a morsel of food, she threw on her rain poncho (it poured most of our trip) and ran to the patio. She’d forgotten her pants, but really, we were the only ones there. Ah, the privacy of Costa Rica.
Back in my cabin, poor Maren proved to be a light sleeper – at least in the jungle. One morning, she shook me awake at four am. If only I could explain the absolute hilarity and dead-pan wit that is Maren, but the words “Abby, wake up, what is that?” somehow conveyed, “Abby, wake up and celebrate our last moments of life because we’re about to be eaten alive by wild boars.” Hysterically laughing in the pre-dawn darkness, I told her it was only the howler monkeys and went back to sleep.
One evening, Maren received a frantic text message from Samarah and Sharone in the other cabin. “SCORPION!” It’s still my biggest fear after four months of living in Costa Rica, but we went running to their aide. We burst through the door to find a spider, motionless, in the middle of the floor. I started laughing. “It’s just a spider!” They told me to look more closely. Sure enough, there were disgusting pincers growing out of his head area. “I’ll be damned,” I exclaimed. “It’s a spider/scorpion hybrid.” I was disgusted, but intrigued. I moved closer. The girls screamed. “And it’s dead,” I said, before peering even closer. The cabina’s owner came to take it away in a bucket.
Let’s take it back a year and a half: I’m sitting in my spanking-new Las Vegas condo, relaxing in my spacious living room, about to click on my enormous TV, when I notice the eyes. There’s a giant, flesh-eating monster of some sort in my apartment. I’m alone. I scream, run out and call my mom. No answer. I call my brother in San Diego. I get him, but he’s clueless. He eventually gets my mom on the phone. From Albuquerque, she somehow helps me remove the monster with a broom and three hours of coaching. I would swear to this day that that grasshopper could’ve eaten me alive. I was a neurotic fool back then, all buck twenty of me always draped in designer dresses when I wasn’t a stress case workaholic hunched over my laptop. I really did think I had everything: a high-powered job, a million friends, access to the hottest parties, local celebrity status. Such meaningless fun came at a price: I never slept, my emotions were always right on the edge of freaking out, I was always worrying about something, my back ached. If you’d told me then that I would be the one marching up to a spider/scorpion in a remote cabin in Costa Rica, I would’ve told you you were crazy. I would’ve said the same thing six months prior, heck, even the month before, after I’d already moved down here. I was changing so rapidly that I didn’t know how I’d be from one day to the next.
Cheers to changing your life!!
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