Finding myself in the Middle East



Monday, April 23, 2012

Back In Bidness!

I'm going to go out on a limb here. Bear with me.

 Jet lag sucks.

 I know, I know, I'm sure I'm gonna get flamed for this, but I feel like someone had to finally take a stand and say it.

 You know when it is the worst, though?

When you don't have it, but the progeny do.

We had a relatively normal flight in. It was actually the first flight that I can remember that I was not vomited upon, which is a pretty low standard now that I am saying that out loud, but you know, if you keep your standards low you stay happy for longer! So there was no vomit whatsoever on the flight and so I was as happy as an unvomited-upon lark. Or unvomited-upon anything, really, because all uvomited-upon peeps be chillin!

 So. ANYWAY, we landed, we smelled only of plane and not of stomach contents, and then we got into our ride and were thinking, this is great. This is a good omen. Because this has been a kind of tough year for us, and we are ready for things to get better. So not that we believe in omens or anything, but this seemed to be a good omen.

 So it's a good thing we totally do not believe in omens because then we opened our front door. And everything in the whole world had gone into our apartment to curl up and die. The stench of death was thick enough to gag on. It was pitch black, and yeah, the electricity was turned off. As was the phone, the internet, and everyone other means of contacting the outside world and yelling, "Help! My apartment DIED!"

 So yeah. Lots and lots of meat and chicken and fish and cheese were grimly dumped and many much of the washing and scrubbing and phone calls to the various responsible parties were made and there was much gnashing of the teeth and pulling of the hair. Which brings me to the jet lag.

 Ooooh, the jet lag. Turtle sleeps in half-hour increments and Princess decided that she is actually above sleep, she is more of a crying and screaming and freaking out and driving me out of my gourd kind of girl. It does agree with her. Coco-pop is like a little angel at night, but because the other two are making so much noise, I keep running to check her pulse. Coffee is my best friend and I tell her all my secrets. Like, "Child abuse is illegal, right? Right? RIGHT?"

 Hold me.

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