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That zombie feeling...
Jun. 17th, 2003 08:12 pmGetting to the airport yesterday involved a little of everything, in moderation. A slight delay not far from my parents' house to buy William Gibson's latest, some traffic on the way to the airport, a bit of a delay in checking in the rental car, and a less-than-optimal time at the ticket counter. All in all, about two hours elapsed from the time I left the house to the time I got through security. This left me with about 60 minutes to kill before the plane started boarding for the first leg of my flight.
In the end, it had to be about the longest day of travel in recent memory.
Comparatively speaking, the flight from Moscow on Saturday went well, as my seat had loads of leg room and reclined (there were moments I thought I was in business class). Yesterday, on the other hand, the puddle-jumper from JFK to Dulles was full, hot and uncomfortable, and I could barely keep my eyes open (or stay asleep) on the 757 during the leg from Dulles to Denver, where I had the window seat in an exit row, with no seat in front of me (just a bulkhead, about 5 feet away). The last plane of the day was another puddle-jumper contracted by United, where I had yet another bulkhead seat, which allowed me to continue my unsuccessful quest for a comfortable position in which to try to sleep. Galina picked me up at the assigned arrival time, and I drove home without incident.
I got up early today, with the feeling that my jet lag was nowhere near cured (accentuated by a line from the Gibson book, to the effect that jet lag is caused by having one's soul trail the physical body as the latter travels through physical space). After a reasonably upbeat first couple of hours, my mood started to change until by about 10:30, I started to feel like the walking dead. This feeling lasted all day. Basically. I didn't want to sleep, didn't want to watch the tube, barely caught up with my email, made some halfhearted phone calls, and accepted a job for later in the week.
I decided to just go with the flow for the day. I'm sure I'll feel better tomorrow.
Cheers...
In the end, it had to be about the longest day of travel in recent memory.
Comparatively speaking, the flight from Moscow on Saturday went well, as my seat had loads of leg room and reclined (there were moments I thought I was in business class). Yesterday, on the other hand, the puddle-jumper from JFK to Dulles was full, hot and uncomfortable, and I could barely keep my eyes open (or stay asleep) on the 757 during the leg from Dulles to Denver, where I had the window seat in an exit row, with no seat in front of me (just a bulkhead, about 5 feet away). The last plane of the day was another puddle-jumper contracted by United, where I had yet another bulkhead seat, which allowed me to continue my unsuccessful quest for a comfortable position in which to try to sleep. Galina picked me up at the assigned arrival time, and I drove home without incident.
I got up early today, with the feeling that my jet lag was nowhere near cured (accentuated by a line from the Gibson book, to the effect that jet lag is caused by having one's soul trail the physical body as the latter travels through physical space). After a reasonably upbeat first couple of hours, my mood started to change until by about 10:30, I started to feel like the walking dead. This feeling lasted all day. Basically. I didn't want to sleep, didn't want to watch the tube, barely caught up with my email, made some halfhearted phone calls, and accepted a job for later in the week.
I decided to just go with the flow for the day. I'm sure I'll feel better tomorrow.
Cheers...
