Last Monday was amazing.

9am - taught class
noon - picked up moving truck
12:30 - picked up mattress
1pm - loaded truck
2pm - Ikea trip
3pm - left for Jenkintown
7:30 - yoga class in philly

It was brilliant; I've never been more on schedule in my life. With the potential for so many things to go wrong, I must have been doing something right because it all went off flawlessly. Until the next morning.
With the truck parked in my driveway in Jenkintown and everything ready to go on Tuesday morning, I woke up with some pain in my right arm. I figured that I had just slept on it wrong. Apparently that's not the case. I have a pinched nerve and I wasn't able to practice yoga for six days. It was absolutely killing me until yesterday when I took my first class. It was painful and I didn't look too pretty but at least I got in there. After teaching yesterday morning, I felt an overwhelming feeling of depression so I decided that I had to take a class regardless of how much or little that I could do. So I feel good about that and I'm going to try to take another class today. Hopefully I'll be able to do more this time.
The move to NYC was complicated. Despite the fact that my sister confirmed (based on the latest info posted on the Port Authority of New York and New Jersey website) that I would be able to drive through the Holland Tunnel with my truck, I was denied after waiting in 40 minutes of Holland Tunnel traffic. I was re-routed through North Jersey to get to the Lincoln tunnel but, unfortunately, the road from the Holland to the Lincoln Tunnels did also not permit trucks. Long story short, even though I left Jenkintown an hour early, I still arrived in the East Village about thirty minutes later than planned.
I packed up some things from my sister's apartment and headed over to 11 East 1st Street to find that there was a severe lack of parking. Not only were there no places to park, there was literally no place to stand for more than 45 seconds with blinkers flashing. See, my building is the second of three phases of the housing development and the third phase is currently being constructed across the street. So every time I would leave the truck in order to find some information, I was interrupted mid-sentence by a phone call from my sister informing me that there was a huge dump truck driver laying on his horn. The end result was that I parked in front of a hydrant and had my amazingly generous friends unload the truck onto the sidewalk and move my stuff piecemeal a whole block to the service entrance of the building. Before the day was over, I got into a belligerent verbal confrontation with a mover, bent the bumper of some stranger's moving truck, and relied on my friends to do all of the heavy lifting because I could barely move my right arm (...remember, the pinched nerve.)
But all of my stuff is safely in my apartment now and I just have to finish up the month here in Baltimore. Four weeks and counting.