I just successfully navigated 4 faffing very grumpy, premenstrual women who doubted my sense of direction the entire time through thick and winding jungle in pitch dark, torrential rain, close lightning strikes and screaming, on paths that had become rivers and steep boulders to climb down the volcano for over an hour each way… to civilization and pizza. This was after I’d already walked 4 hours to the beach in rubber boots and rubbed all the skin off my ankles.

(Reminder to self: this is why I usually backpack and adventure with men.)

Though I have to hand it to them. They are all pretty brave for girly girls. Got muddy, sweaty, climbed through barbed wire fences and risked all for pizza. And I love them. I hang out with these people 24 hours a day and never get bored of them. And they’re always up for a hug.

It’s time to crash. I have an eyeball growing between my big and second toe and ankles to lick. I think saliva might help? Good night!