I’m a night person. Any attempts to go to sleep earlier than when I am feeling genuinely sleepy usually don’t pan out.vian34.ru
That’s why I’m cursed when it comes to things like flying out at 6 AM. Despite my best efforts last night, I rolled around in bed, unable to sleep until probably 2:45 AM. That lousy hour of pseudo-sleep I had when my alarm went off at 4 AM was probably worse than not sleeping at all.
I also wasn’t thinking too straight at the airport when I got sucked, mid-sentence, into the whirlwind that is the final security point prior to boarding. The TSA people hate me because my carry-on luggage is like a portable version of a Best Buy store. I got caught up in the unpacking of the laptop and the removing of the shoes and the answering of questions and pulling out this and that and going through the metal detector and…
… and there’s my wife behind me, a metal detector and the TSA lady between us, and me in my socks suddenly remembering that she can’t follow me since she’s not a ticketed passenger…
… and I hadn’t given her a hug and a kiss. Because I’m a distracted dumb ass.
I asked, but they said I couldn’t go back through unless I took everything back through with me… and I was already about six seconds away from a cavity search by this point.
So that’s how I started off my trip… saying the week’s goodbyes to my wife via my cell phone from the men’s room five minutes later (I had to wait for her to get back to her car where she left her cell phone). 🙁
Fortunately, the flights were uneventful and the layover brief. Colorado and the Rockies were a sea of pure snow from the air. The wind coming off the mountains threw the plane around a bit, but it wasn’t white-knuckle sort of stuff.
As usual, I was unable to sleep substantially on the plane. So by the time I had arrived in San Francisco, waited for the glacially slow luggage carousel to barf up my one checked back (the boring bag with insignificant crap like clothes in it), dragged my possessions through ten BART stops (actually, eleven since I went the wrong way at first and had to backtrack), checked into my hotel and gotten my bearings… yeah, I was zombified.
I did finally give in to a much needed short nap, but I set the alarm to be sure I got up again at the local version of dinnertime despite my body saying it’s 10 PM. I staggered out, grabbed something light and brought it back to eat in my room in case my dulled motor skills caused me to jam the sandwich in my eye or start snoring mid-chew.
So it’s not really the East Coast/West Coast jet lag so much as just not having any proper sleep for about 24 hours. I’m pushing myself a bit longer, though, in hopes I can sleep until a sane time and not sit up in bed at 4 AM local time. We’ll see.
I grabbed a few token photos (small versions are here… I’ll link to a real gallery starting tomorrow) on my brief jaunt around the neighborhood. I stopped in at the Apple store (1.5 blocks away) and CompUSA before sticking my nose in the door at Moscone South for a second.
So I’m going to zonk off here in a bit, but I’ll post more tomorrow as the action starts and I have my wits about me. 🙂