Luxe

There has not been a day this year in which I have felt more uncomfortable and sickened than today. But then again, today is January 2.

Family vacations have always been an excuse to exchange a couple thousand dollars for the most tense and stressful days of the year, and by its own nature, stir a previously unfounded anger towards the waste of school breaks on stretches of complete and utter sloth. Food is presented by the platter and bucket, travel is executed with footrests and please and thank yous. I encourage manners, but travelling for the sake of travelling is taking it too far.

Normally, I would not and should not complain that I'm crossing international borders whilst being safely exposed to the world's cultures and traditions, all expenses paid by my parents who have worked very hard for the salaries that they've made and used to pay for this trip. There are many people who will never in their lives be able to travel beyond a few states; there are many people who would cherish even one evening buffet through which we casually passed and ate because it was the only option that didn't require walking out of the hotel. 1225 pesos, 99.8 american dollars.

But see, I don't care about money, and I will hate myself (more so than usual) when I do. I am not really thankful that I can experience these luxuries every year, whether it is in Mexico, China, Japan, anywhere. Luxury doesn't do anything but spoil people who aren't careful, and no one is careful. This hotel reeks of drunken gratification and I reek of sleep... because in my own fit of dissatisfaction, I have found escape in the occasional strawberry and long doses of unconsciousness.

So here I am, more than slightly angry at the fortune my family has made, feeling the sauces and cheeses of Mexico slowly crawling down my stomach. Today was not seized.