Zombiedom

Pirbright, 16th September 2006

I am feeling positively loopy. I got on a plane on Friday in broad daylight and got off a plane on Saturday in broad daylight. Sleep was almost nonexistent, given that the fellow in the seat in front was seemingly determined to mow through my knees from about 10 minutes after takeoff to the denouement 11-something hours later. (Incidentally, cheers for that 45 minute wait to get to our stand after landing, fellas. Good job.)

After the hugs, the first cup of strong coffee I could get my hands on, the first of many (I presume) maternal interrogations, and an uneventful drive through dull suburban Surrey, I finally stumbled through the front door of my parents' house a little after noon. Determined that I should acclimatise to this new time zone (a mere eight hours ahead of Pacific Standard Time) as soon as possible, I began to summon all of my strength to stay awake as long as I could. I also made a very large pot of coffee.

My mother decided sometime after lunch, that I should go into town and see my brother's (small, but perfectly formed) new flat. Hence it was that a tall pale zombielike figure could be seen haunting the Peacocks shopping centre in Woking in the late afternoon, crashing from Virgin Megastore to HMV, clutching an eclectic mix of toiletries and teabags. I actually managed to stay awake for five hours beyond that (finally conking out halfway through writing this, actually), but what I said to people past 6 pm is anyone's guess.