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I Hate Jet Lag

I really, really do. So does Vickie; in fact, she hates it more than I. It’s monkeying around with what was meant to be a relaxing four days before we got back to work like nobody’s business. We were planning to spend most of the time playing through Shadows of Undrentide, but we’ve been back in the country for forty-eight hours without firing Neverwinter Nights up even once.

What have we been doing instead? Well, there’s been sleep, unpacking, sleep, watching a DVD, sleep, shopping for basic supplies, sleep, eating, sleep, watching some telly, and more sleep.

I mentioned before that we’re not travelling any long distances by air without getting at least one stop-over. Here’s why: We got in at nine on Thursday morning. Vickie and I went to bed at around two, after I put that last post up. I was out of bed again briefly at three, when the Cazman dropped his set of house keys off. We slept until eight thirty. I crashed again at one AM Friday, woke up when Vickie came to bed at three AM and couldn’t get to sleep again. I came out and did some stuff (I think I played Homeworld2, but I’m not sure) until about five thirty, when I made an abortive attempt to get to sleep again. I gave up at seven, when Vickie and I both got up again.

It all caught up with me at around two PM yesterday; the morning shopping trip (where we forgot to get the film from the UK developed) really took it out of me. When Vickie woke me up, saying I wouldn’t be able to sleep later on, I looked over at the clock, which said eight thirty, and wondered why I couldn’t just sleep in until later this morning, say ten or so – until I realised it was still dark behind the curtains. It was still Friday night. So I dragged my protesting carcass out of bed, we had dinner, did some other stuff (I definitely played Homeworld2 this time), and finally went to bed at around two AM today. We woke up again at about half past six.

You see why I hate jet lag?

I’m still not sure whether we’ll get any Shadows of Undrentide in today. I have to get myself a haircut (boy, do I need it) and buy us a new hair dryer (ours nearly exploded in my hand this morning). Plus, we have two birthdays to sort out today – my Mum’s birthday was on Thursday, so we need to get her pressies wrapped and given to her, and Dan and Lesley are having a combined party for their nippers today as well, so more present-wrapping, etcetera. We'll drop Mum's pressie off and give her our best on the way to Dan and Lesley's.

All that leaves us with is the Dreaded Sunday; the Day Before Work. We have the time then, but it's almost too depressing.

Add family and friends to the list of things I hate, too. And work. And hair dryers. And Sundays. Hell with it; I hate you all. It’s all your fault anyway.

I doin't hate haircuts, though. The end result may occasionally be bad, but the process itself is quite pleasant.

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