Vacations and I do not seem to get along very well. The first actual vacation I went on was in 6th grade. My family and I traveled took a two week long road trip from Houston to San Francisco. We stopped in Yosemite and saw sea lions. That’s about all I remember from that trip. That was the last vacation I went on until last year. January 2014, I went on a snowboarding trip in Breckenridge, CO. I broke my ankle a few days into the trip.
Right now, I am sitting in my bed in my hostel, barely strong enough to walk downstairs. Besides my cold/flu-like symptoms, I am suffering from an extreme case of FOMO (fear of missing out). I tried to tough it out, but the last of my strength was spent waiting in line for a Sushirrito. Yes, it’s exactly what you think it is. It was delicious. Afterwards, my friends went cycling across the golden gate bridge and ate at Chinatown. I sat in my room and caught up on Brooklyn Nine-Nine.
I’m not going to lie. I’m pretty upset. I’m copying my friend’s video about her trip to Peru by making my own little travel documentary. The Golden Gate Bridge was going to be the money shot of San Fran. I wish I could just have a vacation without any ailment befalling me. Luckily, I had a very successful trip to Yosemite for three nights before coming to San Fran. That is most likely where I got sick because it was freezing, but it was well worth it for the view. More on that later. Right now, more bedrest, and hopefully I will be better by tomorrow when I leave for Vancouver. Something called Poutine is calling my name.