It is, in an odd way, rather wonderful to know the different ways I react to jet lag. Given that this is my third trip to Europe in 2010, I'm feeling rather worldly and was as close to chipper as I'm able to get of late after climbing off the plane and moving through the airport to clear passport control in Spain.
It was a trip of close calls and near misses - I scurried on to my trans-Atlantic flight mere minutes before they closed the doors, having only 30 minutes between the arrival of my connecting flight to traverse a rather large airport and get myself to the jet bridge. Such a quick turnaround is lovely though - when I made it to my seat and buckled my seat belt, I was completely thrilled to be stuck there for 9 hours.
It didn't last, of course, and I fretfully jabbed at my screen as I searched for suitable entertainment. I ended up with The Tudors (resulting in a wikipedia search last night so I could recall my British history) and Young Victoria, both of which were engaging enough. I also tried to make it through the United States of Tara, finding it a fascinating concept but somehow not fully embracing the execution of said storyline. Still, I ate my meals and sipped water, tried to read my book and marked pages in my tiny travel guide.
The latter was necessary when I walked in the lobby to find my friends ready to see sights. So I threw my belongings in a shockingly large room by what I've seen of continental Europe and set off to wander around town. I grew cranky and decided to separate myself from the group, tiring of their backtracking and stopping for no reason and crediting it more to my mood than their actual annoyingness (which was likely very low). Two women decided to go with me on a more efficient tour so we followed my map and commented sparingly on the places we saw until I said was tired and achy - my normal state for the past month, honestly - and wanted to go back to the hotel.
I quickly fell into bed after taking an assortment of prescriptions and slept for nearly 12 hours. I'd say life is still harder than it should be, but I've started the new pills and am hopeful they'll help within the next couple of weeks. I'm also coping - when confronted with a problem, I can battle the urge to retreat and have won more small skirmishes than I would have thought lately. Yet my expectations have dropped according to my mood - while on other flights to Europe I've worked at least a couple of the hours in the air, my laptop stayed off this journey. I find I shy away from even thinking about certain projects and problems but can make progress on both the important and the easy items, as long as they're not terribly difficult.
It's not all sunshine and puppies, but - I think - it's beginning to get a little lighter.