It hurts.
It really, really hurts.
I can barely bend down to tie my shoes, it’s that bad.
I mean, I knew it would be painful, but this is simply excruciating.
Evelyne taught me a great new word today. Muskelkater. In English the proper translation is “muscle strain,” but in German, Kater also means “hangover,” so from now on when I'm sore I’m going to say, “I have a muscle hangover.”
Since I can’t move, I’m reading a lot. I have really expanded my reading horizons in the past few months. I am reading my third book by an Australian author. I don’t think I'd ever read anything by an Australian before. I’ve read Almost French by Sarah Turnbull, Picnic at Hanging Rock by Joan Lindsay (which was made into a popular movie in 1975), and now I’ve just started Shiver, which is about a journalist who goes on an expedition to Antarctica. I also borrowed this book called Living Next-Door to the God of Love from Beth, which is the weirdest sci-fi I’ve ever read.
I had plenty of time to read today because John went to the Frankfurt auto show with several colleagues from work. He got to see Angela Merkel (the German chancellor, for those of you out of the loop of international politics) and tried to take some pictures, but they turned out pretty blurry because she was moving around a lot. Anyway, here’s proof that he saw her.
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