Steve and I just got back from a week in Germany, visiting with family. Well, Steve didn't do much visiting; he mostly sat on my bed being fluffy. It's what he does best. And so here I am, sitting up at 4:00 AM, with jet lag. Did I mention I hate jet lag? No? Then I'll mention it: I hate jet lag.
Oh, but look, here's a fancy definition of it: "Jet lag, medically referred to as desynchronosis, is a physiological condition which results from alterations to the body's circadian rhythms resulting from rapid long-distance transmeridian (east–west or west–east) travel on a jet airplane. It is classified as one of the circadian rhythm sleep disorders." Desynchronosis - ooh! And circadian rhythm sleep disorder - whooee! Now I feel like Somebody, having that. I still hate being up at 4:00 AM with it, though, even if it's got a fancy name.
Steve, of course, feels no such affliction; he's snoring his woolly snores on my bedside table. Yes, stuffed-bear snores sound exactly like their non-snores (very, very quiet). Which is why they're restful people to have around. Mind you, for all I know, he's not snoring, but telling Horatio all about his adventures in the Old Country (it's a bit hard to tell with stuffed animals). You want to know what those adventures were? I have no idea; how should I know what my stuffed bear gets up to when I'm not looking? I was too busy visiting, and eating, and going into the city to do shopping and sightseeing (and eating), to pay attention to bearly adventures. But that's all to the good; stuffed bears tend to get self-conscious when they're watched too much.
Life, the Universe, and Jet-lagged Ramblings. I'll be more coherent when my circadian rhythms have attained the state of resynchronosis.