Miserable

In all fairness, I suppose I should have seen this one coming from a mile away. Today is our last full day in Torit and I'm so depressed that I literally cant manage a simple smile. (This is a problem because I'm sloping around looking like my house just got burned down-worse actually! bad example. Moses' house got burned down and he looks great. maybe, sloping around looking like my husband of 15 years just left me the same day I lost my job-and I think I'm creating some concern)
I still havent written my Kahn essays. Well, ok. I wrote one-ish on disarmament, but it doesnt grab me, it doesnt make much sense, and it doesnt ask the right questions. I developed this horrible cough all night that offically woke me up at 5 am, so i cleared dishes from the night before and washed them and had a complete and total fiasco attempting to boil myself some water. But I suppose all of this deserves an explaination.
Last night, the Toposa came back. Bishop and his convoy drove into the compound at around 6:30 pm. We had bought two goats but hadnt started roasting them, Rex never showed up, and we suddenly realized we had to provide rooms for about 40 people. Lucy went to sleep (!) at ten and I had to wake her up to remind her that-unfortunately-she had a job to do and she damn well should be doing it. It was pouring rain. We got some food made for the "special guests" which they got to eat at a normal time, inside, with food and beer and soda, and then roasted goat and oogali for the Toposa which took until almost 9 to cook, and was not accompanied by sauce or anything remotely structured-not even plates. This made me seriously uncomfortable, but I was the only one I think. When the goat was finally ready, I went to ask Ed where plates were and he just kept telling me to bring them meat. Considering that the Toposa hadnt eaten anything and Ed had eaten the equivilent of an entire day's worth of meals, I was irritated by this. Mud was everywhere-to keep from falling i just kicked off my flip flops and walked around barefoot. I ended up being the hostess, which was exhuasting, and Jerome kept adding to the things I had to do by asking for favors like feeding the watchman or getting him a beer-while he just sat there! Doing nothing!
And then, just as we started coordinating rooms for everyone, the generator died and we were plunged into darkness.
Needless to say, I went to sleep cranky as hell, and bone tired, and cold and wet.
And then I woke up at five, coughing my lungs out with this horrible dry cough that has settled in my chest. I tried to boil water for tea because thats all I wanted, to soothe my throat. But first the gas wouldnt light, then it exploded, then I almost got lit on fire, then it wouldnt light again, then Lucy told me to just light the make shift stove with charcoal, which I couldnt get to stay lit, then Jerome showed up telling me I was useless because I couldnt boil water, and then I just got really pissed off and stayed that way. And then somehow it was decided that I was the person to come to with any problem, so requests started pouring in-give me a bag to transport this entire dead goat in, make me tea, get me bread, where is the peanut butter, have you asked Joseph for coffee?
So here I am. I am sick. I am stressed. I am depressed and miserable. I am angry. I am tired. I am hungry. I dont want to think about packing or work or leaving. I still need to pick some things up at the market. I dont want to smile or celebrate or say goodbye, or be social to anyone. I dont want to be asked what to do anymore. I dont want Ed to tell me to "stop selling myself short and just do it". I dont want to spend my last day here pissed off and sad, but I"m on the verge of tears and I dont know what to do with myself and I think i'm goin to stop working until lunch because I dont know what else to do.
Also I have a huge blister on my ankle that I thought was guinea worm (its not) but it hurts like hell anytime I put weight on it (i.e. all the time). It looks like a gunshot wound. Its that ugly.