Saturday, 9 June 2012

living on a jet-lag

"All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go
I'm standin' here outside my door
I hate to wake up at 4 o'clock
Yes the dawn is breakin', it's early morn
The alarm's waitin', it's still to blow his horn
Already I'm so tired I could die"


I'm tired, seriously, hopelessly, deadly tired.
Jet-lag should be over by now, but nope: I fall asleep late at night and at 1 o'clock in the morning I wake up. I go back to sleep, but only up to 3 a.m.
I manage to fall asleep again at 4 but by 5 my eyes are wide open again.

It's frustrating. I've always had a bit of insomnia in springtime, but it's a different kind of insomnia. When I'm sleepless in spring, I'm not that tired. If I can't manage to sleep, well, I still do something: I bake (an omen?), I read and re-read, watch the whole "Blackpool" series.

Now it's different, because I'm tired: I want to and need to sleep. To make things worse, there's a mosquito I haven't managed yet to slipper to the wall and it's making me look more and more similar to Altan's Pimpa.

But it's not just the jet-lag. Maybe it's partially its fault, but it's because I'm not home yet. Ok, I'm not in an hotel, the flat I'm staying for the next few weeks is nice, in central Milan, but it's not "home": there's not my morning mug, there are not my coffee machines, the vinyls I bought in San Francisco are waiting for my turntable.

As a consequence part of my brain (the working part, I presume) still thinks as if I was on a business travel, so I spend a lot of time working.

I just need to be patient, I tell myself, because soon enough I'll have a home, my coffee machines and I shall have a coffee while listening to Talking Heads' 33".
Right: patience, that's all I need. And maybe I could use a little nap.

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