Man, I'm tired.

Mentally and physically tired. Today I got some pho from my favorite pho stand in Long Xuyen. He's been making pho for 17 years he told me once. His lines age as he smiles. "Haven't seen you in so long! Where have you been" I mumble that I've been working a lot. A strange guilt arises for some reason, as if I was a traitor. The feeling quickly erases itself as I come to the conclusion that guilt can only be felt if I went to eat at another pho place, which has not happen.

There is something about a good bowl of noodles in the morning that calms me and slows me down. It's the process.

When you get a bowl of pho you have to add things to it.

So it becomes just right.

Perfect.

This takes patience. Reaching over to the fresh green plate of vegetables I toss them around a bit and find the ones I like most. Picking each leaf off and breaking them, they leap into my bowl.

And the sauce.

My GOD THE SAUCE.

Handmade hand crushed burgundy goodness with dried chili seeped in chili oil.

And now I'm going to faint onto my bed from exhaustion. Under my mosquito net, because I just don't want to think anymore.

Tomorrow I will have no electricity. After Vietnamese class off to Saigon I go. Long Xuyen seems a tad stranger to me, since I've been on the go for the last month or so. The bridge is connected. Dark gray clouds seem to linger. And the sun seems to be angry at me.