Why do I take night flights? I hate them. They seem to bring out the rudeness in passengers. I can never, ever sleep. And I seem to be physically incapable of adjusting to my new timezone when I get back. I have very little problem when I go west or take day flights. It's the damn Europe overnight return that causes me the trouble. Plus it is all compounded by the emotional exhaustion of worrying about my dad as he's going through chemo. And then there are the raging hormones/emotions/bloating/cramps caused by horrifically timed PMS.
It sucks being me.
While I've been up in the middle of the night, I've watched Memento, undecorated my Christmas tree, done many dishes, strewn the contents of my suitcase all over my guest bedroom (but haven't actually put them away,) learned basic Spanish on an educational cable show, picked up and reshelved my CD collection after running into the rack and knocking them all on the floor, read three back issues of the Economist, painted my toenails, shaved my legs, braided my hair into tiny little braids and then unbraided it because it looked ridiculous. I made myself an bacon sandwich, drank a carton of orange juice in total, made a pasta salad, and have been sipping shots of Bullitt bourbon.
None of this has helped me sleep, it's just been something to do with my time. And on Wednesday, after I'd finally drifted off around 530, I ended up sleeping through my alarm and waking up at 11. When I called the office to let them know what was up they just laughed at me. They'd figured it out and decided to let me sleep.
Last night I tried to call Tom to have him talk me to sleep, but he had a life and was out doing something fun, I'm sure.
I repeat. Jetlag SUCKS.