the readjustment.

This trip to Madrid was supposed to be an easy one, free of any kind of culture shock. I've been living here for a year and a half total, so I thought I was more than well-adjusted. For goodness sake, I was eating a giant lunch at three everyday, and mixing pieces of ham into my peas (the unnecessary ham is the give-away in Spanish cuisine). After spending a month in the United States, however, I think some back-sliding into old habits snuck up on me. For example, I was pretty content to walk at a moderate, occasionally slow pace in the city. Even in New York, I wasn't racing like I used to when I lived there, which probably annoyed many New Yorkers. But one day back here, and I nearly punched some old lady in the back of the head for walking too slowly. In the past month, I've picked up a bad case of sidewalk rage. But sidewalk rage is only one example. I have a strange desire to walk in the street and drink a beverage at the same time. And I would like that beverage to be quite large, maybe even iced, but that's not a requirement. Of course, here, if you ask for a coffee to go, you get some strange looks. Looks that say: "Where are you going that's soooo important that you can't drink this coffee here?" As if there is nowhere that could be THAT important.
In all fairness, though, I had a little trouble adjusting to New York after being gone for more than a year. I forgot that no one has vacation. No one takes breaks, either. While trying to meet up with all of my friends, I asked if anybody could meet for lunch. "I don't take a lunch break" is the response I got from many of my friends. Suddenly, I remembered why I took a break from New York: I love lunch, and while I may like carrying my coffee with me, I definitely don't like eating my sandwich on the subway. Give me three hour lunches all day, every day.