Things are worse. Bad, even. I feel that I have been misled and misplaced. Having been invited here under the impression that an inability to ski or speak German were no problem, I find now that I Must learn German as soon as possible. There is no work besides being a ski teacher (especially since it is the low season and everywhere is, in fact, overstaffed already), and that is impossible without some German, so I have to get going, really going, and fast. There is also essentially no work for a snowboarder so I am going to have to learn to ski ASAP also. I am not angry at my hosts and employers, whose generosity is still their primary feature, just confused why and how they brought me here.

With the German, I really try. From day one I am studying hours a day, but it feels futile. Even working overtime, there is no way to learn a language overnight, and I have no teacher, and there is NO TIME. And the stress is trebled by the impatience of my colleagues at the ski school, all of whom demand to know WHAT I AM DOING HERE? Why, they ask, would I come to work in Austria without speaking German? I wish I could answer that I DON'T know but that seems like a foolish response. One of them, on meeting me, just looks me in the eye and says. "You Have to learn." Thanks Captain Obvious. It is hard to make friends with people who don't want you there.

And as for making friends, I work hard at it. The social scene is quite simply. After work, go to one of the two bars in the village for some apres ski drinks, and stay at the bar till dinner. Grab some food and then keep drinking till the wee hours. Money no object as the ski school pays sufficiently and there is nothing else to spend it on besides more ski gear (everyone here has about 4 snowboards, sets of skis, a dozen jackets, etc.). This is not good for me for a variety of reasons. One, I don't enjoy drinking too much all the time and don't have the money to support it anyway, and especially in a drinking scene where as people drink they speak even less English. The people are nice, truly, especially my roomates Berry and Nadie, and Patrick. And they are very inclusive and nice to me, but we don't really seem to understand eachother. And though I loosen up on thee exterior after a couple beers, I don't really get any happier. And the money is flowing out and I go out with them every night in an attempt to involve myself and be sociable and then one night, after too many drinks I am just fed up, with the whole situation, tired of trying to avoid the next beer and not buy another round and wanting to go home (to the apartment, but also to Real Home), and tired of not understanding what is said and tired of studying and tired of being in a place where it seems I am not wanted and don't belong. So I get up from the table, and walk out, beer in hand, without saying goodbye or even putting on my jacket. Rude, yes, but in that frame of mind there was no alternative. They joke about it the next day but my unhappiness is not assuaged.

Why am I here? What the hell am I doing? Should I leave? Walk out, like I did from the bar? Or stick it out, be miserable, and count the hours till I return to England and Casey? This is a challenge. Challenges are good, right? But I hate them. I hate this. I don't want it. So, Why am I here? What the hell am I doing? Should I........the loop of thoughts continues, flashing intermittent images of home, my family, Casey, my friends, and all the places I wish I were, when I am quite simply in a place I wish I weren't.