Lagged

So I've been up now since 8am on Sunday, UK time, and it's now 10pm Monday, HK time, which is 30 hours awake, punctuated by a few fitful hours dozing on the plane. I suppose the victims of psychological experiments have been awake for longer, but sometimes they got given amphetamines, the lucky blighters.
It was an uneventful flight: the captain must have had his foot on the gas as we were back in hong kong in 11 hours, without any drunks or angry anti-seat recliners. Before I knew it, we were back in my apartment and unpacked. I love the efficiency of this city.

And yet, even as we walked down to our favourite Japanese restauarant, nothing seemed quite real. Hong kong felt more like a fantasy, a phantasm produced by denial of sleep. Plus the smog over the airport was like a thick blanket - visibility was down to a few hundred yards. It's good to be back.

I put the girlfriend to bed at 8, went to a rehearsal (I'm Jesus on Thursday for five minutes) and then home to sleep. I hope I wake up in the correct country tomorrow.