The Enemy Of My Jet Lag Is My Friend

(This was my view from my balcony in my flat in Cannes last week)

A few weeks ago at my Doctor's office for my first ever prescription for sleeping pills;

Dr. Johnson: "Hi, so what can I do for you?"
Me: "I need some drugs."
Dr. Johnson: "No Problem! Everything can be solved with drugs."
Me: "... You're like a God to me."


As I've gotten older, I've noticed my body changing. I had yet another overseas trip coming, and I've had to face up to the sad truth that I'm no longer a young buck - that I'm more consistant with a Grumpy old Git (as one of my UK friends made a marked observation at the recent Toronto Film Festival).

Jet-Lag in particular has been a real indicator over the past couple of years of my diminishing powers. 10 years ago, I'd go to Cannes with little else but a briefcase of condoms, a budget for Vodka Red Bulls, and a card in my wallet which would be translated into French, saying something like "In case you've found me drunk, or mugged on some beach somewhere, the phone number of my office is +1 604-XXX-XXXX, and the number for the Canadian Consulate in Nice is +33 (0) 4.93.92.93.22. Merci Boucoup in advance from an inebriated festival-goer, and sorry for any vomit that might be staining my immediate vicinity".

Now, when I travel overseas, my inventory consists something like this:

Sleeping pills
Anxiety medication
Canadian toilet paper
Emergency Hemorrhoid Medication
A good book, and plans for a hot bath
Manuscript for my upcoming book "Most. Boring. Tourist. Ever."

Oh my youth - I hardly knew ye.

The sleeping pills Dr. J prescribed for me were nothing but a Godsend. Seriously. I slept 5 hours going over in the plane, and popped on the first 3 nights of the market, so I was in tip-top shape. As opposed to the debacles of other years, where I'd be still wide awake at 6:00 AM, because my body was telling me it was only 9:00 at night back on the west coast - and I had still a full day of work ahead of me. Mmmm drugs. Is there anything they can't do?

Anyway, By the time I landed at YVR back from another trip from Cannes yesterday, I had been up for something close to 17 hours. Factoring in the delays at customs, waiting for luggage, then getting actually out of the airport, then on the Canada Line to downtown, then to flag a cab down for the rest of the 10 block trip to may apartment, I staggered through my doorway in the middle of a bright, sunny Saturday afternoon on the Canadian Thanksgiving long weekend. I thought to stay up the whole way, have an early dinner then get to bed, and come out shiny and happy on Sunday to enjoy two blessed days off.

As it turned out. Reverse jet-lag reared it's ugly head, and I ordered a pizza at 6:00, fell asleep at 7:30, woke up at 2:00 AM, and have been up for the duration. So, it's either pretty early, or really late, depending on your individual proclivities. (But whatever- I'm not the boss of you).

The sun is just coming up now, and although I wish I could get back to bed, I'm going to be gutting out the rest of the day. I've got Thanksgiving dinner tonight and I think after a few glass of wine, some tryptophan, and the company of some good friends, I'll be ready for bed in about 19 or 20 hours from now.

It's nice to be back home. Jet Lag and all.