So begins my semester siesta. It’s been a long time coming—since I first started learning Spanish in sixth grade, actually. From middle school on, my classmates and I moaned and groaned about how easy it was for our teachers to recall vocabulary words and we would gasp at the marks from their meticulous corrections of our tattered prose. But each teacher always made a point of telling us about their travels to Spanish-speaking countries or their college days as students studying abroad. Perhaps we were the only captive audience they had to reminisce about these glory days where they could have a conversation about something besides school supplies or basic clothing items or they wanted to use these tales to keep enrollment up and their students motivated. Regardless, these stories and the glassy-eyed recommendations of many college graduates (or current students) recalling their time spent abroad have brought me to this point. From application to visas to plane ticket searches to insurance company-medical supply phone tag to course pre-approval appointments to moving out of my dorm to absolute chaos and to last minute doctor’s visits—and not to mention my normal concerns over my health, classes, extracurriculars, and my job—it’s been a busy three months. But the Fall semester ended and I got to breathe a bit for the Holidays. Phew. Now I’ve just got to get to Madrid.