Jet Lag

4 Jan

Sorry guys, I’m jet-lagged to hell today. I’ve been trying to get back to a normal schedule, despite the fact that I’m an unrepentant night owl and normal for me includes sleeping in until noon. Seriously. Trying to get me up before 11 am is like poking a hibernating platypus bear, but I can stay up to three am with nary a yawn. In any case, I totally ascribe to the William Gibson theory of air travel, where your soul is left behind in the wake of the jet. Those curious few days of disorientation and discontent after traveling a long distance are a result of it bobbing along behind you, being reeled on after you hooked on invisible fishing wire. I like the idea of my soul, ethereal and tied to a brightly colored balloon, muttering severe curses as the whiplash from my return journey to China ricocheted it along faster. (Read Pattern Recognition, guys. Bizarre and disorientating and wonderfully deliciously prescient.)

Have some baby pandas instead.

h/t Susan. Thanks for feeding my obsession with these adorable yet useless creatures!

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