Lagjetted

I was hoping to have a chance this weekend to ruminate over, then write about, certain aspects of my trip to the familial home in Florida. But it looks like it may take me a little longer than I had thought to regain equilibrium here.

Traveling between time zones and countries is always a little disorienting, but this time seems particularly bad. Apparently, according to E., I sat straight up in bed in the middle of the night and shouted, "Where am I?"

My body clock is clearly confused. I never master the whole sleep-on-the-plane during night flight- then stay- awake-until bedtime when back in UK, thus reducing awkward jet lag. This trip was no different. Instead, I watched all the movies and read my book under the dim shine of the cabin light before arriving, exhausted, in London where I promptly fell asleep on one of the few reclining chairs in the airport. I then had a further nap when I got back to the flat in the Other City. This screwed things up completely when it came time for "normal bed time".

Then there is the obvious, um, difference in the weather. Florida last week? Sunny, warm, glorious, relaxed. Scotland this week? Cold, dark, wet, gloomy. I am having my usual crisis of wondering why it is I live here. E. keeps reminding me that visiting is not the same living there. An obvious fact, to be sure, but one which is easily overlooked in the pangs of regret that tend to accompany the return to life in Scotland.

Lastly, I have been trying to lavish lots of love and attention on my much neglected E.. But it's somewhat hard to be at my affectionate and perky best when my eyes feel like burnt holes in the landscape of my head, reeling from cultural whiplash, and contemplating certain grim realities. Namely, returning to work tomorrow morning. Oh, and let us not forget my HSG tomorrow afternoon. The joys, the joys.

E. can't come with me to the appointment, so I must now figure out how to make my way by public transport or taxi to the hospital, and then depending on his timetable and whether he can collect me afterwards, how to get home again. Also when to take my valium tablet, bearing in mind I may also have negotiate complicated paying of the bill before procedure. All of this is preoccupying me somewhat, whereas in an interesting role reversal, E. is more focused on things like when we are going to set up the Christmas tree and start writing our seasonal greeting cards.

Is it any wonder I am tetchy, bristling like a fretful porpentine.