Re-entry

Jet lag has hit me harder coming home from this trip than any I remember in the past. The reasons probably include everything from the incredible levels of stress hormones in my system, brought on by the roller-coaster effect over the north Pacific (seriously, I kept being surprised that the plane wasn’t just plunging out of the sky), to the fact that it’s the holiday season which throws off my sleep schedule anyway, to the fact that it’s also winter here and so dark much of the time . . . which makes some of the cues about when to sleep and when to be awake much harder to read. This morning, for instance, I woke up at 3:30am, wide awake, so I got out of bed and came into the living room and wrapped presents. Ian, who is also suffering, came out to join me about 5:00am. Around 6:30, I noticed that the sky was a deep blue instead of black, and briefly believed it to be past sunset. Which it was in Thailand. I’ve also been craving things like soup for breakfast . . . which is not typical . . . and, surprisingly enough, Thai food. I have to say, this is the first trip I’ve ever taken where I’ve gotten home and not really wanted to eat any other kind of food. I miss sticky rice ready made, hot, waiting for me three minutes from home. I miss tom ka, enough, in fact, that I made some just now (it’s not quite as good as what you can get on the street, but it does fill a gap). I don’t particularly miss the Thai way of wrapping all hot food in Styrofoam and plastic—that always made me a bit nervous—but it didn’t stop me. So, for my health and the avoidance of polycarbons (is that what they are?), it’s a good thing I’m home.

It’s also lovely to be back with Spackle and friends and friends’ dogs and relatives and relatives’ dogs. And the fact that I woke up from a nap yesterday afternoon, looked at my decorated living room and beautiful tree (which I’d put up Sunday afternoon and evening after arriving back home—my first attempt to combat jet lag was to keep myself up until bedtime here . . .) and thought I was in Thailand dreaming about my house being decorated, and then thought no, I’m not in Thailand . . . but where the hell am I . . . only makes life more interesting.