Monday, January 15: Four hours of sleep last night - why is it that I always wait till the last possible second to go to bed before I have to fly the next day? Texas is a big place - it's a two-hour drive from Waco, where my brother lives, to Dallas, where I fly out of in the afternoon to come back to Bulgaria, and they're both pretty much in the middle of the state.

Correction - WOULD have been a two hour drive, but when we opened the door there's ice everywhere. In Texas. His yellow VW Beetle (that he calls "Gospodin Sluncho" - Mr Sunshine) is covered with snow. We clean it off as best we can without ice-scrapers, but the windshield wipers stayed just frozen enough not to do anything, and of course the washer fluid froze so whenever an eighteen-wheeler went zipping around us doing 80 we had to stop and clean it off. My brother doesn't know how to drive on ice, so he had the good sense to let me, but with all those crazy Texans zooming by in their Canyoneros and smacking into the ice patches, I thought for sure they were going to kill us all.

Tuesday, 16: What day is it exactly when you're on a plane? It was Monday when I left and I'll arrive on Tuesday, but what day is it now? Who knows. At least they had Bailey's. It was a nearly empty flight, so I laid claim to a two-seat row next to a window. Infuriatingly uncomfortable even so. Snagged a couple hours of sleep, but not much, and when I couldn't go back to sleep I opened the window shade and stared down. As we passed over Ireland you could see the cities lit up with that sulphur-orange shade that all street-lamps everywhere seem to use. Passing over England there was a low, even layer of clouds far below, and as the sun neared the horizon the clouds and sky turned blue. But underneath us it was still dark, and the weird orange city lights shone up through the clouds as bright, diffuse patches on a still, gray-blue sea. It was stunningly beautiful. I've never seen anything like it, and unfortunately my new camera, smart as it is, refused to take a decent picture of it through the scratches and glare of the airplane window.

Got in all right. My dogs were ecstatic - especially Shepska, who carried on to no end and chomped my arm whenever I tried to leave her. She usually just gets mad at me for leaving and refuses to speak to me for a while. Stayed up long enough to go to the youth meeting at my church. It was a wonderful time of sharing about which I remember almost nothing, because by that point I was so tired that my eyes were coming unfocused of their own accord. On the empty tram coming home, I stood up the whole way to keep from falling asleep.

Can I say though that I'm disgusted by the weather? I want snow, and they had more in TEXAS!!!!

Wednesday, 17: Dogs are great, but they must be taken care of - let out of the basement where they sleep, given water, fed, etc. As I'm currently the only one of the family in Bulgaria, I must do this, jet-lag or no, so no first-day sleep-in. Also, there is no food in the house. Time to grocery shop. And the grocery store is out of pomegranates. Crap. I thought I remembered them being in season longer last year.

Thursday, 18: Had a pretty good meeting at the paper, but I was a little spacey - didn't have much sleep the night before. P mentioned something about karaoke Monday - I'm currently having a bit of an existential crisis/get out and meet new people-/discover yourself-type moment inspired by a combination of romantic disappointment and the numerous depressing reasons for which I went to the States, so I ask to come along. Went to lunch afterwards - the waiter insisted on talking in English to M, who actually speaks Bulgarian quite well. What made it even more frustrating for her was that he was quite willing to speak in his native tongue to me. I was amused, but to be fair, I would have found it frustrating, too.

Found out that I was in fact granted a visa.
 
Friday, 19: Woke up around eight, having finally gotten to sleep around five the night before. I've only once had jetlag this bad before, and that was 13 years ago when I first came here. Ice skating with expats and English speakers was a blast.

Didn't fall down - I'm better than I used to be growing up roller-skating. Among other things, the rink back home only went counter-clockwise, so for years I could only turn left. Very much wanted to go with everyone else to (different) M's house for a beer, but I needed to go home and take care of my dogs before my Dalmatian froze to death. Also, I was stumbling on the way home as my eyes came unfocused from fatigue, so it's probably just as well. I take it back - I've NEVER had jetlag this bad before.

Saturday, 20: Wake up at six. Of course. I mean, really, why wouldn't I? In the morning I whip up an amazing potato soup, then go ice skating again. Although this time, I fell down when someone plowed into me. Note to self: your rear end has far more padding and is considerably more suited to impact than your wrists and elbows. Coming back home, my German shepherd is more talkative than usual. Yes, Shepska really does talk to me - not in words and sentences, but in terms of object and associated emotion, definitely. Whenever I come home she tells me about all that happened while I was out.

"There were birds, which I hate. And Pugsley misbehaved. And the construction in the neighbourhood was loud. And there were other dogs on the road. And now I want in the house."

Monday, 21: Drunk on my own culinary power after a smashing success with the soup, decided to largely improvise a pork dish. I was pleased. Then I threw it all up. Considerably more painful for the ego than the intestines. I NEVER throw up - let's hope that this time it was at least partially due to having my metabolism so thrown off by ongoing jetlag or maybe a stomach virus rather than just my cooking. Got a new phone, because my old one is no longer functional, then had a blast doing karaoke in the evening. Resolved to take the next two days off to get over jetlag, because despite being able to get to sleep before three these past few nights, I'm still waking up at five or six.