Flagging badly

I don't think I've ever properly had jetlag before. I've been to America a few times (three times to New York and now twice to Vegas, I really should branch out next time) and I've always felt tired and slightly out of sync when I got back. Nothing 12 hours in bed wouldn't cure, though.

What the hell happened this time? We got back Tuesday and I stupidly stayed awake on the plane - Virgin had too many good films to sleep - and then went to bed at two in the afternoon back at Chez Hoskyn. I only planned to have a nap, but I got up at midnight and had to spend a nightmare day at work on Wednesday. That would be fine if it wasn't press week! For the next few days I was signing off pages thinking "God, I hope everyone else is reading this really closely." At least we get the final proofs next week so I'll be on better form to catch anything that might have slipped my tired mind.

Wednesday and Thursday night I tried staying awake late (11-midnight) and getting up for work, to try and force my way back into a routine. It hasn't worked. On Friday night I went to bed at midnight, but slept till 4pm Saturday. I returned to bed at 3.30am this morning but got up at 10am.

Like I say, I don't think I've ever had proper jetlag before. I feel like I did the first time I really had flu. All the times before that I just had a minor cold, but there's stuff going around and you think it's flu. Then you get the real thing and it kicks your legs from under you and you feel like you've been stomped by a gang of hooded teenagers.

I'm determined not to give in to an afternoon nap today - this madness has to end!