Lagging...

Dear Jet Lag,

Please stop devouring me. I have spent the last month working in America, fun times all round, but, in my absence, I fear you, my bed and my pillow have formed an unholy trinity. A sneaky alliance. What wicked whispers have you placed in the ear of my beloved pillow? What have you said to my bed for it to shun my embrace? Normally, you and I never hang out Jet Lag, until this point, you have always been relatively kind to me and so I fear I have upset you. Perhaps my fingers whipped you into a frenzy in order to return themselves to my oh so neglected keyboard.

I think the best thing about you is the wonderful conversations I have had with myself for four hours at a time in the middle of the night. I now know how to set the world to rights, can list all my flaws alphabetically, build a better mousetrap and at some point I may even start to unpack, although there hardly seems a point, we leave again in two more sleeps. Ah sleep, I remember you, unlike some of my previous lovers, you do your best work at night...

Yours sincerely,