Jet Lag

I'm back in the UK now and absolutely shattered. I'll write up some of the highlights of the holiday in the coming days, but for now I'm too tired to think much beyond how tired I am. I awoke in our rented campervan parked in a little town just south of Auckland at 7am on Saturday (6pm Friday UK time) and was awake from then until I got home at about 8am on Sunday. That's being awake for thirty-eight hours straight - something I've not done since I worked at Warthog Games a few years ago in the mistaken belief that working that many hours was worth it. I tried to make sure I didn't sleep on the first leg of the journey to Singapore so I could force myself back to UK time. I fully intended to spend most of the second flight to Heathrow asleep, but the journey was so turbulent I just couldn't nod off. Fourteen hours of clutching my stomach to stop its contents from sloshing about is not my idea of fun. A bumpy landing at 5am on Sunday with a gusty galeforce crosswind was met with a spontaneous round of applause from the passengers. I don't think Boeing designed the 747 to bounce on runways, but this one did. I slept a couple of hours yesterday morning and then tried to stay up the rest of the day, but only managed to stay awake till 5pm, which of course meant waking at 2:30am and not really sleeping the rest of the night. After a slow day at work (living on caffeine all afternoon) I've managed to stay up till nearly 9pm as I write this, so I think I'm making progress on making up the thirteen hour time difference between New Zealand and the UK. However, I was so tired I declined an offer to go to the pub tonight. If you know me, not going to the pub when invited is a pretty rare occasion. Anyway, if anyone has any really good ways to get over jet lag, you know where the comment button is... Zzzzzzzzz...