I don't sleep too well on planes, a fact which was exacerbated by the night leg of the trip being defined by the size of the man in the seat next to me. Before you go all SOSHUL JUSTICE!11one on my arse, he wasn't even fat, he was a very large man though, and yes I am fully aware of how uncomfortable he must have been in that tiny seat. I am PRIVILEGED not to be wedged in with things sticking into me on both sides. As it was he did his best to stay contained and I take my hat off to him, but he didn't succeed and consequently I got elbows, legs and other unidentified body parts that didn't belong to me, sharing my seat with me most of the way, and I didn't sleep.
Fast forward 24 hours and I'm in Brisbane being patted down for explosives. By this point I'm mildly hallucinating, and I remember telling the pat down lady that if they wanted to just deport me that was fine because where I'm going is where I live anyway - but mostly I was just very vague and woozy and 'do whatever you want'-y. Surprisingly (possibly because I'd just had coffee) I maintained a non-hoha attitude throughout the proceedings.
And then, just as I was thinking how lovely it'd be if rivet met me at the airport with my car to save getting a shuttle, rivet met me at the airport! *tacklehugs rivet*
So after a sleepless 28 or so hours, two novels, a lot of movies and food designed to make you constipated, my body thought it was late afternoon. I still managed to get to sleep by midnight though, and forced myself up at 9am.
Now to do washing, unpack and pick up threads of life. The Kid starts school today, I have to buy train tickets, there's an essay to write.
I miss Joel.