Here again, and knackered. My watch says virtually nothing, my feet say "go and lie down" and the airport clock is just a collection of wavy lines.
I feel like I've been folded up, ironed flat and stuffed into a drawer with some mothballs for seven hours, then taken out, shaken, given a pair of shoes three sizes too small and made to stand in a gigantic wasps nest for three hours, only to do the folding sheet trick again for five hours.
All this discomfort would be fine if I could look forward to wifey's warm embrace. But no, I just have the prospect of being ripped off ("400 Baht, sir, I pay toll, sir!") for a ride on a 300 year old Avensis to my too-hot apartment, containing nothing but a (probably dead) plant, some tea bags (thank heavens) and a set of drums which just scream "You are inadequate" at me.
More cheerful news to follow as soon as I have a proper kip.
Be good.
