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Bah. Jetlag.
It's good to be back in England. There are small adjustments I'd made, like re-learning how to cross a street* or getting used to switching outlets on and off, that feel comfortable. It's hard to explain, and it goes deeper than saying "ring my mobile" or "give me a bell" instead of "call my cell". It's the muscle memory of daily living, like remembering how to jiggle a key to unlock the front door (takes some finesse) or making change without the coins feeling wrong.
*In Toronto, I'd wait and the corner for a light to change. Here, if there's a gap in traffic, you cross when/wherever. Of course, Toronto roads tend to be wider and more congested...
It makes perfect sense to me, but it's also 1:30am so it's a total YMMV on this one.
Also, there's a stray unclaimed recycling box at my front gate, but it's not mine. It's been there two days and I'm not sure if I should claim it. We already have one, we don't need another.
This resembled my flight back, a bit. I had a 20kg weight allowance for checked baggage, and mine weighed in at 19.8kg. And that's with the peanut butter and all those photocopied articles that I meant to read in my MA and still sound relevant now. The couple at the check-in desk next to me had to weigh their carry-on bags (15kg limit! yay charters!) but somehow I managed to get checked in without having to do any of that. I stuffed my backpack (older model, though - so happy to finally have it with me here) with books and more photocopies and had a messenger bag mostly full of computer but also other heavy things.
But in exchange for that good fortune, and for a quick run through security, and for having an empty seat beside me in the middle of the row, and for boarding (nearly) first because of sitting at the back of the plane, for all of that the woman on the other side of the empty seat was a chatty, opinionated, retired real estate agent and grandmother-of-twelve. I didn't sleep a single wink on the flight. Didn't even nod off, even a little. (Apparently I remind her of her third granddaughter.)
Which is to say, I haven't quite managed to fall back into a sleeping schedule because I lost out on in-flight naptime, and have been flailing ever since.
On the upside, my SSHRC cheque was waiting for me when I got in.
Need to sleep now.
It's good to be back in England. There are small adjustments I'd made, like re-learning how to cross a street* or getting used to switching outlets on and off, that feel comfortable. It's hard to explain, and it goes deeper than saying "ring my mobile" or "give me a bell" instead of "call my cell". It's the muscle memory of daily living, like remembering how to jiggle a key to unlock the front door (takes some finesse) or making change without the coins feeling wrong.
*In Toronto, I'd wait and the corner for a light to change. Here, if there's a gap in traffic, you cross when/wherever. Of course, Toronto roads tend to be wider and more congested...
It makes perfect sense to me, but it's also 1:30am so it's a total YMMV on this one.
Also, there's a stray unclaimed recycling box at my front gate, but it's not mine. It's been there two days and I'm not sure if I should claim it. We already have one, we don't need another.
This resembled my flight back, a bit. I had a 20kg weight allowance for checked baggage, and mine weighed in at 19.8kg. And that's with the peanut butter and all those photocopied articles that I meant to read in my MA and still sound relevant now. The couple at the check-in desk next to me had to weigh their carry-on bags (15kg limit! yay charters!) but somehow I managed to get checked in without having to do any of that. I stuffed my backpack (older model, though - so happy to finally have it with me here) with books and more photocopies and had a messenger bag mostly full of computer but also other heavy things.
But in exchange for that good fortune, and for a quick run through security, and for having an empty seat beside me in the middle of the row, and for boarding (nearly) first because of sitting at the back of the plane, for all of that the woman on the other side of the empty seat was a chatty, opinionated, retired real estate agent and grandmother-of-twelve. I didn't sleep a single wink on the flight. Didn't even nod off, even a little. (Apparently I remind her of her third granddaughter.)
Which is to say, I haven't quite managed to fall back into a sleeping schedule because I lost out on in-flight naptime, and have been flailing ever since.
On the upside, my SSHRC cheque was waiting for me when I got in.
Need to sleep now.
