There is a lovely dislocation that happens with travel.
Especially if that travel leaves you slightly jetlagged. Life takes on a rather surreal edge. It can even happen on smallish trips, where, because of changing locations, one day can somehow morph into feeling like two.
For instance, I can wake on an ocean-tossed morning in Sechelt, shuffle into gumboots and ramble in the garden. And then, only a short ferry ride later, I can be sipping a cappuccino in full-Vancouver city-gal mode.
Voila! Two-days for the price of one!
I have discovered the same can be true with my latest bouts of intermittent insomnia. If I wake at 3:00 a.m. and realize – after staring at the ceiling for an hour or so – that I am definitely not sleeping, I head off to the living room. I read for two or more hours and finally fall back asleep. Check it out…I’ve had an evening nap, a full round of reading, and a pre-morning nap.
Voila! Three nights for the price of one!
Then there is the added bonus of hot flashes. First of all, let’s clear something up. It is not a flash. Flash-in-the-pan, flash-fried, flash-mob…these words suggest something quick, something over in a second, something that doesn’t last very long.
Wrong!
These should be called hot-protracted-surges. Because this is the kind of heat that could consume lumps of coal, the kind of heat that leaves me looking like I don’t have enough sense to do up my coat and get out of the rain. But listen. I am being consumed by a fire that makes the cold rain feel like a blessing.
Granted I may look a little wild-eyed at this point. Perhaps you might even describe me as a little dishevelled with my coat pushed off my bare shoulders (all because I am reduced to wearing tanks and layers as all my shirts are too freakin’ hot!!)
A word of advice? If you see me or any other woman of a certain perimenopausal age? Realize that the woman in front of you might have already lived a week in the last 24 hours.
Make sure you can identify where the nearest exit is located. Because whether on a plane or near a 50-ish woman…
It’s always good to have an exit plan.
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