Moving up....21 Stairs

I consider myself to be a pretty strong female. Biceps of steel, thighs of titanium, abs of sterling silver. My abs have recently been downgraded from platinum.

Twenty one steps at a forty seven degree incline. My new apartment is determined to prove me a weakling.

I have now made the trip up those stairs carrying a couch, two sets of mattresses, five pieces of heavy furniture (including the stupid armoire with a curved top so there are no hand holds), six ice chests full of food (frozen and fresh), and countless loads of books and miscellaneous materials that I am pretty sure I am donating before we move again.

I am sore in muscles that I knew I had but had no intention of ever using. I have blisters. I have tripped twice and skinned my knee when my darling pup wrapped her leash around my legs as we were headed up the stairs. I hate those stairs.

However, I love the new flat. Having an oven big enough to hold a full size cookie sheet is totally worth the sore muscles.

Another beautiful rainy day in Prague. It has been sunny one morning since I arrived. Spring will come soon, I'm sure.

Had a rather rough start to my day. Fell out of bed an hour before my alarm was supposed to go off. You're supposed to be mostly immobile during REM sleep, but I don't think my brain is aware of this fact.

Didn't pull the shower door all the way closed and caused a minor flood in the bathroom. Oops. Broke the top off of my mousse, so I now have fuzzy hair. Sigh.

Tripped and fell in a puddle on my way to the metro. Skinned my knee a bit.

Hospital was good today. Lecture about rheumatoid arthritis, clinic. Had a half liter in the hospital bar afterwards with the other students. Today is their last day - they have next week off to study for exams.

Went to St. James church this afternoon- couldn't get inside though because they are cleaning for Easter. It's the second longest church in Prague, historically linked with the city's butchers. More interestingly, it has a decomposed arm hanging inside above the door. The story is that a thief in the 16th century tried to take the jewels off the Madonna at the altar. The Madonna grabbed his arm and wouldn't let go. The butchers cut it off the next day. It's been hanging in the church since. It's an oddity now, but can you imagine the people that had to go to Mass when it was new? Ick.

I'm calling a mulligan for today. I'll give it another go tomorrow.