Jet-lag is a bitch! I am so out of it when I get home on Thursday, I can't even eat anything even though I'm very hungry. It's been a long return trip. I go to sleep around 4 in the afternoon and wake up the next day. To make matters more disconcerting, my house has changed. Floors have been sanded, televisions have been replaced, furniture is out of place, I can't find anything.
Where is the sugar bowl? I ask Friday morning at 5 a.m. I've missed David's coffee. And The New York Times. David tries to teach me how to use the new remote control. My brain is not on yet. But slowly I regain my composure and get things done. Find things. Now I need another nap.
When I close my eyes I hear Greek: my mother's voice calling my name, my cousin's comments about America, my friends', the neighbors. My head swims in the past three weeks but finally I manage to fall asleep. Jet-lag is a bitch indeed!
It's 3 pm on Friday. I have to take a nap. More later...