My travel time to get from Utah to Spain this week was 25 or 26 hours, from leaving one house where I had permission to sleep to arriving at the front door of the next place where I had similar permission. In between, though I was allowed to sleep in the not-very-comfortable seats of four different airplanes, I had only limited success. There were a few airport lounge seats that featured along the way, but given the amount of time spent in airport security checkpoints and passport and customs enforcement lines, none of those places gave us any rest either.
Once inside our borrowed Valencian flat, we allowed ourselves a few minutes to enjoy the accomplishment of the “get ourselves to Spain” task, and then shifted our focus to the next big project, “find ourselves a flat to rent.” Not only did we have apartments to find, we had jet lag to try to thwart—if we could stay awake until early evening we’d have made at least some progress.
With sleep deprivation comes muddled thinking and slow reaction times. I’ve heard that driving drowsy is about as dangerous as driving drunk, and at the moment I definitely feel like I might be a danger to myself and others. I’ve tried to make a few notes about interesting things I want to write down for you, but right now the safest course is probably to pull over and rest before I do us all a literary injury. I’m not sure my insurance would cover it. Once I’ve gotten some solid sleep, I’ll try to pick up where I left off.
[Image: loucrow.deviantart.com, eremedia.com]