“I didn’t come to Spain to sleep!”
This is a phrase I’ve been hearing several times a day since I got here. Whether it’s coming from fellow students, my roommates and friends, or even my own self it all means the same thing: there is too much to do and too much to see to pause for one second.
But there is another side to this. Everyone in my program here ran on adrenaline for about two weeks and then quickly arrived at the brink of death—or at least the most disgusting colds you have ever seen. My roommate had a hacking cough, sniffles were everywhere, and I lost my voice for two days.
People were fading fast. Sleep is one necessity the human species has never learned to live without. An average of four hours sleep a night definitely does not make for a healthy lifestyle.
I realized this a week ago when my roommate and I were eating literally anything we could get our hands on. All we wanted were french fries from this delicious cervecería, 100 Montaditos, and candy. Then I remembered, from a very helpful sleep study I had to attend back at school last semester, that after just four nights of four hours or less of sleep, your body is already pre-diabetic. This means your body cannot accept or process sugar, which is what was definitely happening to us. We had to eat constantly to keep some semblance of liveliness. On top of all that, we were constantly dehydrated. Europeans don’t really see drink sizes the way us Americans do and the average size glass is the size of a fist. Not exactly the easiest way to hydrate.
Although I was feeling like I had been hit by a dump truck, I know I didn’t come to Spain to watch contraband Bachelor episodes and cuddle with my laptop. I hadn’t scoured every inch of this city yet. There was so much Spanish to be spoken. And FOMO (fear of missing out) can always get me to drag my sorry self out of bed and into a discoteca.
This weekend when I got home from an amazing but whirlwind trip to Córdoba and Granada I had to make a big girl decision. It was finally time to give up a couple nights out and take Sunday and Monday to rest. No sightseeing, no pub-crawling. Just…sleep.
It was a like a miracle drug. I started eating healthier food again. I had energy to go running down by the river. I was a new person.
But Valentine’s Day night out beckoned, and my friends and I obliged. It was a hilarious and great time but exhausting.
I’ve learned it’s all a balancing act. Staying cooped up in an apartment for fear of wearing out and getting sick isn’t worth it. Studying abroad is just as much about what you do outside of the classroom as you do in it. But your body knows what it needs and you have to listen to it.
There’s no cure to the common cold, but naps, orange juice, and plentiful doses of spontaneous excitement are doing their trick.