My heart is still going strong but my brain has flatlined. At the Heathrow departure lounge with three hours to kill, I stood in front of a pair of earrings I’d been telling myself I really needed. They weren’t expensive. Shall I buy them? Or approach the lady at the Clinique counter with my makeup issues? M-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m-m. Buy a paper? A magazine? Peruse the bestsellers? Nothing forthcoming – not even lost in thought. No response at all from the old grey matter, not even indifference. Just blank. Odd.
What could be the possible cause? It had been a short visit to the UK with several unpleasent doctor/dentist appointments to fit in. My mind was still whirring with . . . . . . . . no it wasn’t. It wasn’t even clunking over. Was this void caused by sleep deprivation, although I’d slept well the last few days; lingering jet lag after three weeks; anticipation of jet lag to come; too much rich food, too many carbohydrates and sweets, too many calories altogether; chocolate hangover from the double chocolate gateau at Patisserie Valerie; too much red wine recently; brain cell die back from too much red wine previously; early onset stupidity; lack of routine; too much unaccustomed socializing; too much fun; lack of exercise resulting in oxygenating red blood cells pooling in my toes?
Goodbye UK family and friends. It’s been great but it’s time to return to, um, let me see, what’s the name of that place? If himself can just get me to the right departure gate there is every chance I’ll turn up in, oh gosh, that place out west where it’s hot and there are lots of cacti. I hope the pilot is competent.