A new day in a foreign land. I open the door to our pseudo tents and am blinded by the nuclear-like flash of sun. The sun should not be this bright this early in the morning. Heat lamps and blow-dryers. That’s what going out in this weather feels like. It’s as if the third circle of hell opened up right on these coordinates. Every step outside is exhausting and painful. The mere thought of walking to the galley is torturous. I’m trying to determine whether eating is worth enduring the walk through hell.
My mind is a fog today. I can’t even think properly and it seems as if the flight attendants gave out complementary lobotomies while we were sleeping on the plane ride. Is this what jet lag feels like? I called Troy last night and realized that I was ten hours ahead of him, making my almost daily Skype session with him and the Bug a logistical nightmare.
On the bright side, my tent has ac, and it feels absolutely luxurious in here. I'm not going out. Nope, you can't make me.