WHAT HAPPENS

Well, we made it. We departed Washington, D.C.’s Dulles airport after 10 a.m. Monday and landed in Singapore 24 hours later. Though slightly disappointed that we did not have a chance to spend another day in Dubai, this time together, we were thrilled to get home, shower and pass out in our own bed.

When I walked through the doorway, I immediately turned on the aircon machines in every room, said hello to the lizard on my balcony and ate one of the flame-broiled cheeseburgers Paul bought us at the airport. We emptied our suitcases and showered, then Paul went to bed around 11; I followed just before midnight. And then, the battle began.

Paul made it until about 6:30 a.m., while I remained in bed for another two hours, begging for more sleep. Mid-morning we left the house in search of food since there was none in the house; we purchased enough to last us a few lazy days, and then we came back and made some sandwiches. By 2 p.m., I decided it was time to go back to bed, apparently for the rest of my life.

Since my three-week trip consisted of me waking up, getting dressed, leaving the house, seeing people, driving back home, getting dressed, going to bed and doing it all over again day after day, every day, not to mention visiting three states in three weeks (I am so done with airplanes right now!), my body has now gone into, “What? We don’t have to go anywhere? Bahaha. Payback.” mode. 

On Day One, I went to bed at 2 p.m. and got up 12 hours later. I didn’t sleep the whole time, but I did enjoy the feeling of just lying in bed. There were times when, though I seriously considered moving, I honestly did not have the energy to move my limbs.

Day Two began early so I was phased with a new predicament: what should I eat for the infamous fourth meal? I skipped dinner but breakfast was still roughly six hours away. Sandwich? Cereal? Where is a Taco Bell when I need one? Just kidding. The sandwich won and, for the record, there were Nacho Cheese Doritos between my turkey and my lettuce.

Breakfast came later, some granola cereal and a small pear. I am pretty sure I spent the entire day on the couch, where Paul found me, sleeping, by 6 p.m. At 7:15, he dragged me by my limbs off the couch and cheered me into the bedroom.

Today we made it to 3 a.m. so it appears as if I am gaining an hour; Paul estimates one day for each hour difference. Great, only 10 more to go! Breakfast was served by 4:30, the kitchen was cleaned by 5:30 and Paul was back in bed by 6 but I was feeling good. I made plans to meet a friend for lunch so I had my first Singaporean cup of coffee to ensure I would be awake. By 1:30 I was uncontrollably yawning at the table. Sorry, Chesca. I believe that coffee and the coke and tea I had at lunch helped propel me into the evening. It is now nearly 11:30 p.m. and I am still going, but I am definitely fading. I sincerely hope I pass out tonight and only awake once the big hand has passed the six. If only.

Nic came over this evening while Paul was napping (we are obviously on different schedules) and we were finally able to softly yell, “Hiiiiiii! I missed you!” in each other’s faces as we attempted to not wake Paul. We caught up on our trips home and made short-term plans that involve some (in my opinion) seriously-unfashionable pants that we may be purchasing in Chinatown tomorrow and a late triple date tomorrow night. Here’s hoping we don’t sleep through dinner.