If First Impressions are the Most Important, I'm Screwed

I had an english word in mind to help me remember how to say 'thank you' in Russian, as it sounds nothing like any language I've ever heard before and I struggle to remember it (and pretty much everything else.) It was a nice, mostly rhyming word. However, in thinking back on it, I think I spent my first 30-ish hours remembering the wrong rhyming word.

Russian: spa-SEE-ba (phonetic)
Original rhyming word: pla-CE-bo
What I remembered: pla-CEN-ta

Which means I've been earnestly telling people "[gibberish]!" every time they've done something for me. Ahh, the only thing better than speaking a language poorly is just making one up as you go along, it seems. (And yes, a picture of a placenta flashed through my mind every time I said it. )

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When I need to sleep I have to crawl between two desks to unplug the computer monitor in the guest room so that my CPAP can use the shared outlet converter. So, yesterday afternoon I needed a nap and was down on all fours, futzing with the plugs. After plugging everthing in, I backed out -- or tried to. However, my head was stuck. And try as I might, I could not get it back out. I twisted and turned and son of a bitch, it wouldn't move. How in the hell had I gotten in there in the first place? I wondered. Did my head grow? I thought they took care of that with the surgery!

I actually sat there on all fours for several minutes in a total panic because I could not figure out how to get unstuck. Visions of having to call Em at work and have her leave to rescue me spun through my head. Hmmm. Bet of all the things she needs to inform her guests about, getting their head stuck in the furniture was not real high on her list: 'Here's the security code for the door, these are the emergency numbers -- oh, and while you're at it, the desks in the guest room are pretty close together. I'm just saying.'

I did eventually escape, and it didn't require the Moscow Fire Department or calling Em, for which I am eternally grateful. Turns out one of the desks is on wheels, and I'd bumped it forward when crawling around. Resolved easily enough -- that is, once it dawned on me to try and move one of the desks. Have I mentioned the 11 hour time difference?

The story doesn't stop there, though. After my nap I girded my loins and prepared to leave the apartment and venture out by myself for the first time -- but couldn't figure out how to unlock the front door. I was stuck again (although this time at least I could go pee in the bathroom while figuring it out.) I must've struggled with that door for 10 minutes, feeling like an absolute fool. 'Really, its a DOOR. I think even in Russia doors works the same way, self! ' Now the image racing through my mind was one of someone walking past our door on the outside and wondering what kind of moron couldn't even get out of their apartment. (Desperate, I even tried some of my pretend Russian on it, but to no avail.)

Turns out you need a key to unlock the door from the inside as well, and this particular style of lock requires that you twist it several times before the bolt slides. Eventually, I got out, and I'm *pretty* sure no one witnessed my Display of International Smoothiness.

Apparently the universe has an international number as well as a local one, and what its telling me is I should spend the rest of the trip in the apartment. Obviously.