In(to) the country
Sorry, the Tana French book is In the Woods, not Into. And good as it is, it didnâ€™t keep me from sleep for long last night.
I donâ€™t do jet lag, but thereâ€™s no denying that when one spends a night on the plane and then has the better part of a day to get through, one isnâ€™t exactly the life of the party by night-time. I make it a rule to stay up until at least eight or nine, and last night I made it until nearly ten before I lapsed into unconsciousness. Which means that today is normal, and Iâ€™ve adjusted to the local time. Any slight relapses into fugue states are due only to accumulated tiredness, not jet lag. I donâ€™t believe in jet lag. Really. I can nddvbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb
Sorry, I fell asleep with my nose on the laptop. But itâ€™s not jet lag, just tiredness. Into the business of getting my feet under me today, making sure my local bank card still works, beginning to fill in the gaps of lodging and transport on my schedule, that sort of thing. Thanks for all the notes, and Iâ€™ll be thinking of you as I punt tomorrow. And for those of you interested in style, my own method of punting has been termed â€œstately.â€ Meaning I donâ€™t go fast, but at least I donâ€™t plant the boat into the bank or scrape off my passengers on overhanging branches.