Jet Lag

Why is it called that ? I do know the answer, but surely it should be known as Bed Lag as that is where it manifests. After the last episodes of Ozark which were exciting, we head to bed around midnight. Both at the same time. I thought it would reduce the chance of one waking the other. Well, forget that theory. 

The radio goes on and we listen to a biopic of the Queen and her diplomatic skills. The radio can be soporific. Not this time. It was followed by a long programme of why Liverpool fans did not gain fair entry into the game with Real Madrid. My diplomatic skills desert me entirely and I demanded it is turned off. That is foolish too. A silence ensues which was deafening between us. We lie there, eyes closed, minds whirring, sheets shuffling, barely breathing, following every gulp, clearing of throat, sigh, deep ones at that. Our stomachs gurgle, one of us breaks wind, we dare not swallow again. My mind writes reams of passages which I will promptly forget, I go over the week twice, menus once, remember all the things I had forgotten during the day. Meditation? - forgetaboutit. 

I adopt the form and skills of an Egyptian mummy, complete with crossed arms and lie motionless. The pitter patter of purposeful possums reminds us that in our misery we are not alone. Several scenarios play out - a frenetic chase over the tin roof, a desire for a sexual encounter as a male sits literally outside our window uttering deep gutteral "come hither" to a female who I suspect is looking for a wire to escape onto. And another noisily eating something very crunchy, the crunch amplified massively in our sorry state. In desperation I think the radio might be the answer again. A sports programme is on and I hear all about Flo -Jo. Did you know she died young ? At that point the bush stone curlews emit ear piercing cries and I am ready to fling myself off the roof with the possums. The night interminable, but then, then, we are woken by an early call and I realise I must have slept for at least an hour as I missed the kookaburras dawn chorus. It doesn't matter because I am rewarded with a visit from Dennis and Doreen. Bleary eyed I am so happy to see them.  I chat to them and tell me that I know tonight will be better.