Too Cold for Comfort

I am wildly remiss in not making a list of all the things I was thankful for yesterday. I would have started with the weather in Cairo. Warm, sunny, at or around a manageable PCT (Personal Comfort Threshold, which is 72 degrees. Any cooler and I am no longer comfortable).

I am thankful that I can hear the voices in my head, none of which I could hear before.  Cairo was so loud, so chaotic, that literally 24 hours a day I heard noise: music, traffic, honking, yelling. A truly constant din that never goes away. So in Prague, I am thankful for the peace and quiet.

But I was not quite prepared for the cold. Its 35 degrees during the sunless days and in the 20s at night. Way, way below my PCT. How foolish was I to think I could handle it. Down jackets, gloves, scarves, misery.  I am freezing cold and have to retire to my quarters in the middle of the day to warm up. But it sure is pretty here.

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I was in a gingerbread store, which was crazy enough on its own because who knew such a thing existed? Anyway, I am in the store,  in my winter gear, shivering, clearly shopping. A woman walks up to me and starts asking me about the selection and the best type of tin for her selections. I cannot believe that I am again a victim of mistaken identity.  I looked at her incredulously and said, “I don’t work here!!” Ugh.

At my Thanksgiving Dinner for One, I found a charming pub with just a few prople in it. I had duck, because you know, birds on the holiday. The man next to me had rabbit. Ugh again.

Every third storefront has marionettes. Faces of varying sizes and colors, each one more horrifying than the next. I am a grown woman who has thrown her body in front of traffic more times than I can count to cross the street at the last second to avoid passing their all knowing eyes.

Otherwise, this is a beautiful place,  stunning really. But uneventful and quiet. I like that. I do long for the heat and can’t wait to get to the beach.

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I will say, though, these magnifying mirrors in the flourescent lighting of the bathrooms are the devil’s playground. I have almost not left the room several times already. Ugh.

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