Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Greetings from somewhere over the Atlantic.

I forget who it was who described jet-lag this way: as if your soul is lagging behind you, unable to keep up with your jetliner, hoping someday to meet up again with your body. By that math, my soul is probably somewhere over Greenland, at best.

So it is 4 a.m. EDT, and I am feeling like it is time to get up and have breakfast. Even the melatonin I took before bed is not counter-acting this.

And have I mentioned it is a little warmer here in South Carolina than it was in Sligo, where I spent the last two weeks?

Nevertheless, it is great to be home--to have slept (if not long enough) in my own bed, to have spent a quiet evening in with the PP and our darling (if adorned with teeth and claws) cats, to have feasted on tomatoes and basil from our garden, to have watched some Olympics on a big flat-screen TV I had forgotten we had bought, to have begun the process of unpacking.

1 comment:

estaminet said...

Welcome home! I have missed your presence on this continent, while I enjoyed your posts. You describe succinctly why I dislike flying. Any motion that separates me from the ground and flings me faster than my body can reckon is...disorienting. If I never had to fly again I'd be super-happy.
Been thinking about you with the Olympic swimmers, and am glad we can now watch together. :)