Yesterday’s freewrite was an assignment I was completing for a class on microfiction. It wasn’t perfect. It might not even have been the proper prompt. However, once I began I was going to go down that road, because why waist the moment. That is how I am beginning to feel about the concept of acceptance. The past few days in Tossa de Mar have been extremely low tier. Tossa de Mar reminds of of Atlantic City at its most desperate and without the draw of Casinos. Everything is outdated and the crowd is the lowest of the low yet pretending to be of a higher status than they really are. We are eating full board, which translates as cafeteria food. Each meal the hundreds of elderly people cue up minutes before the spot opens and fill the tables with sadness and disdain–mostly towards myself and the Lady Talis. We do not belong in their eyes–not together and certainly in their sight.
I accept their disdain. I accept this place and moment. Acceptance helps me carry forward with my day. Today, for example, I had an amazing morning and afternoon. Come time for the return to the hotel, things fell apart. I discovered that I could not find a decent meal anywhere and the cafeteria slip that had been sustaining me isn’t available till much later this evening. I accepted that this is the case. I picked up a yogurt. Forgot the spoon, but I went back and bought one of those eventually. It was more steps, but was it terrible. No. It was meh.
Just like Tossa de Meh.