After having only a good 3-hour sleep for two days in a row, I finally got a straight 7-hour sleep last night. What a joy! I almost forgot the feeling of fully rested. Here I am so happy, but mind you, seven hours are actually not even the recommended hours of sleeping for adults. I usually need more than that.
Jetlag. I’m having a reaction already just from typing the damn word. It’s like a disease, a diagnosis. It’s a fancy word, though. Technologically sounded.
If you’re wondering why I mentioned jetlag, it’s because right now I’m still dealing with the damn jetlag. Hence, the sleep deprivation. Those of you, who have never experienced jetlag, be happy and thankful.
See, jetlag did not hit me right away on my first day arriving back in my second home. I actually slept so well on my first night back. Somewhat fitful I must admit, but waking up only once in the middle of the night and still able to drift back to sleep is what I would consider excellent. I slept for 12 hours on my first night back.
The uninvited jetlag decided to show itself up on my second night. Didn’t even bother to knock, just trotted its behind into my home and stayed. I went to bed at 9 pm on my second night only to be awoken by some kind of sound at midnight, and voila…I was wide awake. On my third night, in order to prevent waking up too early I went to bed a few hours later, 11 pm. Exactly 3 hours later (same as the previous night), I was awake again. It was as if somebody was watching me sleeping and the clock right next to me, waiting to make a sound to wake me up exactly 3 hours later. Whoever it was succeeded.
Needless to say, the past two days at work was a challenge, a struggle. Okay, fine, I’ll say it, a NIGHTMARE. I dragged myself all over. I was supposed to call one of my colleagues on the phone and end up calling another person with the same first name (but different last name obviously). That was pretty comical considering that I haven’t spoken to the person on the other line for probably about 4 years. I fought the urge to close my eyes and drift during many meetings throughout those two days. I felt like I was walking on air actually in some occasions, as if my feet did not touch the ground (no, I was not using any hallucinogen).
The painful thing I learned about jetlag is that even though my body was exhausted in the past three days, if my mind does not want to sleep or rest, nothing I could do was good enough to make myself fall asleep. I tried counting sheep (this is definitely useless, by the way, don’t even bother), breathing/relaxation exercise, taking an allergy medication, and even getting out of bed for a few minutes to make myself tired before going back to bed, but none of them worked. I was not even thinking or worrying about things as in the case of insomnia. My mind was not racing as in the case of manic episode. It just did not want to rest, I guess. Annoying.
So, if I actually wrote a short blog about the joy of waking up fully rested, imagine how it was for me this morning. It’s definitely worth to be documented. And also, this is a reminder that I’m getting older because I don’t remember jetlag having to be this painful in the past. &*$#@! (Pardon the expression)