Ms Jet Lag is a strange creature. She creeps up on you at strange moments like just after you’ve downed a double double expresso Americano. Hey – what the hell was that? I am loaded up with caffeine…. back off already! Oh but she’s a determined dame. Before you know it waves of fatigue are sweeping over your body and you long to lie down…. anywhere, really. Right here on the supermarket floor would be just fine!
When you finally give in to her seductive promise of hours and hours of sleep she cruelly wakes you up at 4 am and wires up your brain with chaotic thoughts of work, kids, bills, laundry and impending disasters. Yes you can try and snuggle down again and pull the duvet over your head. Forget it. You can’t escape her. She will taunt you with all the things that need to be done…. NOW. Even though its 4 am and freezing cold the compulsion to get downstairs and fire up the old lap top is hard to conquer.
Just a couple of days ago I woke at some strange hour at home in my own bed but lay there like someone who has awoken from a 10 year coma – wide eyed and not quite sure where I was. Without moving a muscle I checked out the room. Window, curtains, dark. Oh of course – this was the Transit Hotel in Seoul airport. Hang on… what’s my mom’s hat doing hanging on the back of the door. Come on Lesley – you can do it. Think…..
It was quite a shock to realise that I was at home in my own bed and that in fact I had already flown from Seoul to Vancouver, then Vancouver to Calgary. It was all like a bit of a black hole. I sat up in bed bewildered and confused and I could almost hear the smirk on Ms Jet Lag’s lipstick red lips.
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