A cruel mistress
Indeed, that jetlag, she is a cruel mistress.
Rather, I more appropriately should say 'trip-lag' (you can hardly blame the jet... which, in a virtually empty first class, was actually one of the best flights I ever recall.)
The sun was shining. The sheep were grazing. Nineteen hours after leaving Orlando (in my personal opinion, one of my least favorite places on the planet), I landed in Rome. Half hour in the rental car line and a two hour drive later, despite the fact that my bones ached to just BE HOME, I *was* alert enough to know my house was Hubbard-esque (Old Mrs., not L.Ron): bare cupboards.
Stopped for just the necessities at the Co-op (veggies, cheese, milk, yogurt, fresh sausage).
The very sweet woman at the grocery store chose my dazed 'just-off-the-plane' stupor moment to try to explain some intricacy about the points in my co-op account. Try as I might, my brain was slow and my Italian ear out of practice. I did understand that I have until Saturday to go back and try again, before I lose something... (points expiring??) One thing both countries have in common: all these ridiculous membership programs with their varying hoops and regulations. Candidly, I don't understand them in my own language, much less Italian!
Sunset brought the sheep to graze. They are looking ratty from the long, cold winter. The strong winds on the ridge had them on edge.
Me, I was just happy to be in one place without an airline flight in my near future. Feeling particularly lucky that that place is on a ridge overlooking the Crete Senese and the sun setting over Siena.
I made myself (you guessed it) plain white rice and spinach for dinner, watched some stupid Italian gameshows (which I really HAVE missed!), and crawled into MY OWN BED. (insert Halleluiah sound effect here!)
Though I tried mightily to wake up at 8 when the alarm went off to go hike the ridge and greet the slowly arriving spring, that cruel mistress trip-lag kept me in bed and sound asleep until WELL PAST noon here today. More than 15 hours of sound sleep... in a silent house ...
It's not heaven, but it's awfully damn close.
Rather, I more appropriately should say 'trip-lag' (you can hardly blame the jet... which, in a virtually empty first class, was actually one of the best flights I ever recall.)
The sun was shining. The sheep were grazing. Nineteen hours after leaving Orlando (in my personal opinion, one of my least favorite places on the planet), I landed in Rome. Half hour in the rental car line and a two hour drive later, despite the fact that my bones ached to just BE HOME, I *was* alert enough to know my house was Hubbard-esque (Old Mrs., not L.Ron): bare cupboards.
Stopped for just the necessities at the Co-op (veggies, cheese, milk, yogurt, fresh sausage).
The very sweet woman at the grocery store chose my dazed 'just-off-the-plane' stupor moment to try to explain some intricacy about the points in my co-op account. Try as I might, my brain was slow and my Italian ear out of practice. I did understand that I have until Saturday to go back and try again, before I lose something... (points expiring??) One thing both countries have in common: all these ridiculous membership programs with their varying hoops and regulations. Candidly, I don't understand them in my own language, much less Italian!
Sunset brought the sheep to graze. They are looking ratty from the long, cold winter. The strong winds on the ridge had them on edge.
Me, I was just happy to be in one place without an airline flight in my near future. Feeling particularly lucky that that place is on a ridge overlooking the Crete Senese and the sun setting over Siena.
I made myself (you guessed it) plain white rice and spinach for dinner, watched some stupid Italian gameshows (which I really HAVE missed!), and crawled into MY OWN BED. (insert Halleluiah sound effect here!)
Though I tried mightily to wake up at 8 when the alarm went off to go hike the ridge and greet the slowly arriving spring, that cruel mistress trip-lag kept me in bed and sound asleep until WELL PAST noon here today. More than 15 hours of sound sleep... in a silent house ...
It's not heaven, but it's awfully damn close.
posted by Viaggiatore | 3/30/2006
2 Comments:
Welcome home, Viaggiatore! I'm so glad to know that you are finally there and can rest for a time. You've earned it. Do you still eat plain white rice with so much salt and butter that it actually tastes like popcorn - like in our dorm days? And... for what it's worth... after nearly two years of getting up during the night to deal with a non-sleeping child, 15+ hours of sound sleep in a silent house totally qualifies as my idea of heaven!
-Jillybean
Jillybean... you have such a great memory! In my grownup life, I tend to prefer my rice a little 'stickier' and just a *little* less laden with butter. :) But then again, I don't have the great Rice Steamer here, either, so it gets made the old fashioned way.
Indeed, 15 hours of sleep was - although a bit baffling - exactly what I needed. I'm laying very low this weekend, easing back in to a routine again, which is nice. You know you're a grownup when your idea of a fabulous weekend is time to do laundry, go grocery shopping, and perhaps make some homeade soup! :)
Michele - you crack me up. I thought of you just the other day as I became a MAC girl, and meant to write! More on that later, but I also wanted to let you know that the tophat and fabulous red jacket didn't make it back to Italy with me. There are some fashion borders that simply shouldn't be crossed. Thanks for staying in touch!
-;> Viaggiatore
Post a Comment
<< Home