Lungs on Fire

My chest is burning and I am still trying to catch my breath. If I don't die right now, it is quite possible I will be dead by morning. Nooo, I haven't joined the circus freaks as an outrageous fire breather. I'm not that desperate, yet. I only just managed to haul a 300 lb treadmill up a steep flight of stairs, twenty steps to be exact, to my flat. With fire burning through my lung, arms and legs, I heehawed the treadmill, bumping and dropping it, including myself, every so often up the old creaky stairs of our late 1800s Victorian. My cheeks were stained red and my eye bags stained black from the mascara plastered on my lashes. Quite a few times I stopped and thought, "What the hell are you doing, Brandi?! Trying to freaking kill yourself!" I really thought I was going to die right there on my stairway. If Led Zeppelin had been with me tonight, there would have been no such melody like Stairway to Heaven in existence. Our venture would have most likely inspired Stairway to Hell. I, seriously, wondered what would happen if I just said fuck it, and let go of my treadmill. I'm sure it wouldn't have been a pretty sight, nor would it be fun having to explain to the police, and all my sensitive neighbors, what all of that crazy god-awful racket was. Nor, having to explain why the neighbor's cat, who loves to sleep at the foot of my stairs, is dead. Well, that might not need much explaining, it would be painfully obvious.

While heaving, hoeing, and slowly dying, I gracefully managed to scrape, bump, and nick, every wall, step, and banister in sight. I consider myself lucky that I only fell backwards three times. Furthermore, after ten minutes, I was finally able to maneuver the treadmill through a ridiculously narrow turn without tipping it over the balcony. Thank You, God!! After another five-minute battle trying to fit it through my minute front door, it was in my house at last. If it weren’t for my flapping heart valves, I would have done the happy dance. With the remaining air in my lungs, I was able to roll it slowly into our spare bedroom.

I'm not even going to try to figure out how to take the treadmill down from its current bundled state, it would very well put me over the edge of no return. Nevertheless, as the age old saying goes, "what doesn't kill me makes me stronger!" Now, off to catch my breath!