Jet Lag

It is 4.18am and I am in Saint Albans.

It is both weird and wonderful to be home. Both my brother and my bedroom look completely different. My parents made huge, vast improvements to my bedroom as a nice surprise, and my brother appears to have aged about five years.

The flight, incidentally, was horrible. I had a cold, as did everybody else on the flight, so it was 24 hours of everyone's germs circulating around the plane. However it got me home, and I managed to stay awake yesterday by setting up my new iPod and going to see the neighbours. I didn't get to sleep until midnight due to the cold, and then naturally woke up at 3.30 and was unable to get back to sleep*. I therefore cannot promise to be coherent later today. Talking to the neighbours yesterday I found myself forgetting how to string words together in order to make sentences.

Anyway, it is very weird to not be in Australia. All the Melbourne relatives gave me lovely cards and a bracelet and saying goodbye was very difficult. Australia was amazing. It was the best and weirdest six months of my life. I met a lot of lovely people and a lot of weirdoes. I mostly went to beautiful places but I went to a few horrible places as well. I can't quite believe it all actually happened.

*By 'unable to get back to sleep,' I mean desperate to a) go on the laptop, b) listen to new songs on new iPod and c) Be awake before Laura and Jane show up in about four and a half hours.