jet lagged-ness

so i haven't posted in a while, partially because i had no time, partially because i had no interneting and it was difficult. so i'm going back in time to make this chronologically correct.
we arrive in moscow and surprisingly, i'm feeling not sleepy at all. we, of course, we get disinfected..err..have our temperature taken before we exit the plane. we decide to take public transport into the city, which ordinarily, i think is a brilliant idea. we get on this light rail train, then the metro. this is where the problem starts. steve has a bad back adn is not allowed to lift things, so i'm carrying his suitcase as well as mine. not a problem if you had like a flight of stairs, but it turns out the moscow subway has many stations, and station transfers all of which lack escalators. steve, also, amazingly managed to pack just as much as i did (didnt' think it was possible). again, shouldn't be a problem, but my stomach, asleep thinking it's night time is not accepting the coffee i poured into it in efforts to keep my head awake. i am suffering from the worst visceral pain ever. doubled over, with both my carry-on bags slipping off my shoulders, i am running up adn down stairs with two heavy suitcases. up and down, up and down. i am ready to curse. the hotel is super nice, by that i mean, it's nice and not russian, (which sort of by default makes it nicer). i have my own room, it's great. we're supposed to be doing interviews, but tajiks dont call us so in order not to fall asleep we wander off into the city. somehow, the plan is to go to the moscow modern art museum. i've been there already, but i dont think steve heard me say it three times. oh well. i like the museum better this time, more new stuff. and being sleepy and sleep deprived puts you in this special sense of being, almost trance-like. art makes more sense, different sense, it appeals to you (me) in a different way. i spend time staring at a wooden statues of a naked lady balancing a bowl of fruit on her head. it is called 'balance' and the body is carved in different layers, emphasizing symmetry between textures of wood. but the statue starts movng, tilting, in my head of course because it is called balance and it cannot move. weird.
i wake up at 3. there is nothing i can do. i am wide-awake. i give in adn after hours of watching tv, i have my cup of coffee at 5. then i go for a walk. in my glasses, which i never do because i hate my glasses and the fact that i can't see in them. but there is soemtihng liberated about being in a foreign city. at 7 am, it is cold and wet adn dark with silver gray clouds. i wonder the streets of moscow, turning around randomly when i choose. steve oversleeps, for the first time in his life, he claims, and doesn't get up until noon. it has been a very long morning.