Becki is falling apart!

I would just like everyone to know that I am falling apart. And I don't know why I referred to myself in the third person in the title. No, I am not falling apart in the emotional break down sense--yet. Although Leah said it really well the other day; we are traveling for three months and going to a different country every two weeks, so of course breakdowns will happen a few times. But this isn't going to be about any emotional negativity, and although I have had my share of that in the past few weeks, only my journal, Baby Jesus, and my mom really get it (thanks Mom). If you want to read on, fine, but this is basically going to be me kind of complaining (and admitting that I am complaining).

It all started on Wednesday or Thursday when I noticed that my foot was killing me. I don't know whether I aggravated an old injury or what, but it hurts whenever I move or put pressure on a certain place on my foot--in short, whenever I move my foot at all. So just realize that I am putting myself through a great deal of pain to roam around the city to bring you tales of my (mis)adventures; but who am I kidding--most of you who are reading this know that is a bunch of crap and that I would do this anyway. But it really cramped my style when we went dancing Saturday night, because I couldn't really lift my foot off the floor or put any pressure on it, so I looked even more like an idiot dancing Saturday night than I usually do. The Peanuts kids dance so much better than I did the other night. The past few days I have been able to handle it pretty well, but this evening I wasn't sure whether or not I would make it back from Green Way. When I got back, my foot was really swollen and I have used it as an excuse to lay in bed and write posts for my blog. I don't see why it won't start to feel better in a few days, but I can't imagine doing another 4+ countries on it. And no, I am not coming back because my foot hurts a little.

Then Saturday I started having a scratchy throat, which I didn't really think anything about because the air is so dry in the hotel. I thought it would be better when I got back to the hotel room after Saturday night after getting ready in another room (most of the other students on the program are at least social smokers which normally I don't have a problem with) and then dancing in smoky clubs. But two days later it still hurts to swallow, and I started coughing both times I was sitting by the river today. Last night I didn't even want gelato (I think I might have found a decent gelato place!) and just went to my Fazoli's-like pasta place at the mall before I grabbed some orange juice and dark chocolate. I am going to the apteke tomorrow to get some homeopathic cure-all that Iveta swears by and has helped cure three people on the trip so far.

So if you have gotten this far, I am really sorry that you just read all of that. I don't usually do this very often. I don't feel as awful as what I made it sound like and it hasn't really stopped me from wreaking havoc on Cracovia. But now you know that my foot really hurts and that I have a sore throat. I haven't been sick since Christmas and I don't intend to get sick now. But what I wouldn't give for an icepack right now--how do you say "icepack" in Polish?