For the love of all things good, what floor are we on?

Here is Spain, they number their floor levels differently than we do in the U.S. Instead of beginning on the first floor, they start at the ´planta baja´. The first floor is only counted after you go up one flight of stairs. What is the big deal you might ask? Well, I live on the fourth floor here in Spain (which would be the fifth in the U.S.) and there is no elevator. It is kicking my ass literally. Imagine climbing Mount Everest, you start off enthused, by the second floor you need to stop at base camp and eat a Powerbar. By the third you have strapped on an oxygen tank and half the expedition has either abandoned or died. By the fourth the sherpas are dragging you the rest of the way. Moving was especially fun as you might imagine, hauling things up and down the steps. For some reason at nighttime I get especially confused when climbing up to my apartment because I have almost tried to open the downstairs neighbor´s door twice now, both times stone cold sober at that. I am sure they would be very excited to find some random American girl trying to force her key into their lock. Focus Allie, one more flight. Now, I will admit (reluctantly) that the Spanish system of floors does make sense, sort of. Not like the metric system which still sucks. I can´t tell the temperature in Celsius at all. I know 40 is way too hot and the teens are chilly. Everything else ranges from coolish (we are talking about a Michigan native now) to sweatbox. I also can´t figure out how much I am actually working out at the gym because the machines work in kilometers. Fail. Good luck trying to figure out the nutritional information on food packages either. WTF is a kilocalorie? Since I have to climb up to my beautiful apartment in the clouds I am not going to worry about it. Let´s not even talk about military time. 16:00? 23:15? I don´t think so. If you can´t look outside and tell what time of day it is to decipher whether it is 4:00a.m or 4:00p.m. you have a problem.
I guess you could say there are things that I certainly miss from the U.S., peanut butter and my family and friends being the two most important (not necessarily in that order). Still in my thoughts and prayers, especially in my trek up to my apartment.

Comments

  1. rockOctober 13, 2010 at 6:35 AM

    you have the calves of a thoroughbred. never forget that.

    ReplyDelete

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