Rest-less.

I've never fully understood 'jet-lag' but i think sleeping from 5.30pm-8.30pm and then 11.30pm-4pm constitutes as my time-concept being potentially fucked. I am still so tired. It's 6pm and i want to sleep forever.

Being home has so far resulted in me failing to get dressed, being constantly reminded that in 3 weeks i didn't get a tan and just missing someone so bad its like a dull ache. I temporarily enjoy day-time tv, eating unnecessarily and absorbing as much literature as my over-dosed-on-sleep eyes can handle. I'll get back on track when time starts running out and i actually start caring about things again.

Work yesterday was the epitome of horrific. I, within the space of 12 hours, decided i have a phobia of getting soaked in the rain, and should never try to be a nice person with less than 3 hours of sleep. I again ate too much unnessarily and will probably once reality has kicked in return to my yoga complex and enough aerobics to cure obese-britain.
Welcome home.