Paradise? Well ...

Too much has happened, so I don't even know where to begin to tell you.

Let's start with the fact that I'm writing this from the shitter, because I can't leave the bathroom due to my travellers squirts.

I'm so sick.  This happens every time, no matter how much black walnut tincture I take in.

We have a new chihuahua puppy for Sir Bark-A-Lot.  He's just as sick as I am and as uncomfortable as Psycho Kitty.

Psycho Kitty had to have dental surgery yesterday because his tooth rotted out and got infected as we were travelling.

We've also decided to take on a 2nd puppy, a little girl with one eye.  We'll get her in a few days when the chi-baby is feeling better.

Pretty sure this li'l lady has the spirit of The Golden.  Same eye missing, and same sweet temperament.

We have no hot water, nor do we have water pressure.

This is the cold season, so I'm actually donning a sweatshirt and pants.

Oh, my pants!  They are destroyed because the house maid put bleach in the water to wash them.  All my pretty city clothes are now donned with polka dots, which will turn into holes when they're washed again.  I will now fit in with the Dominicans.

We had to get her to wash all our clothes that we had at the storage facility here, because they were mouldy when we got to them.  They've only been here for 4 months and everything we owned had a layer of mould soot on it.  So lovely.

We haven't eaten a meal since we left Canada.

Our gas range only has one burner that works and when we finally had time (from running around all day, never stopping to the point of my feet throbbing), we bought groceries to cook a nice meal instead of corn chips for dinner again.

Well, the last functioning burner quit, so last night, yet again, we had more corn chips for dinner.

The sweet maid's boy brings me fresh fruit.  I hope he brings more today.  I'm starving.

All our clothes are still in suitcases, because we don't have dressers to put them in.  So, we can't find anything because it's a mess.

It took so long to find my underwear, because it was used to stuff into tiny little areas of the suitcase, that I wore the same skanky pair for 5 days straight.

Today I'm at the point of 'fuck it' and I'm going commando.

That was super great today, when we had to pull over to find a washroom to clean the vomit off my pants from the chi-baby.  2nd time he's christened me with his stomach acid now.

First time, yesterday, I just sent Papi in to go buy me a new skirt.  This time I just found a washroom at a restaurant, stripped down and cleaned my pants, then left the washroom looking like I had jumped into the sink.

We haven't even been able to find time or energy to get into the ocean that is mere steps away.

Well, with the exception of the time I had to run around the neighbourhood trying to find the new puppy that decided he was going back to where he came from.

I ran up and down the beach looking for him.  The vision of running up and down a Caribbean beach may sound 'nice' to you, but this this body is so broken that 'running' around put me into back spasm.

Oh, and our bed?  It's so uncomfortable that within 20 minutes of lying in it, even the bones in my fingers hurt from all the pain radiating from every blood vessel in my body.

This is not paradise, nor is it relaxation.  This is more work than I've done since my motorcycle accident 4 years ago.

I'm in agony and exhausted, on top of having a nasty case of the shits.  It's getting so bad, that pretty soon I'll be able to shit through the eye of a needle.

I laughed at Papi when he said we need to build a wall for our place to keep us safe.

I'm not laughing anymore.  Our house maid told us I'm never allowed to be left alone in Casa Paraíso, because the bandidos will come and overpower me to take everything, so I'm basically a prisoner.

My thoughts of writing on my laptop while having a beautiful view of the ocean are squelched.  I'm hiding in the back of the house in the spare room to be sure nobody sees my computer.

Not paradise.  No, not yet.

So, if you had even a remote moment or tinge of jealousy in your body about us moving here, don't.

Instead, enjoy your freedom as you move about the city to go to a store and instantly find what you need, have a warm shower and crawl into your comfortable beds that aren't filled with ants, sand, and cockroaches the size of my fist.

Go enjoy your own paradise.  Your life of accessibility is grand.  You really are living well.

I promise you.

everything will get better.  i know this, because it always does.  i trust this to still be true.