Today is the fourth day I wake up in England and I’m happy to announce that jetlag is still in my blood. I’ve woken up automatically at 7:30 am for four days in a row. And I start feeling sleepy by 10 pm.

Previously, in Singapore, I’d been going to bed at 6 am and waking up after 2 pm.

I don’t know if it will last; my night-owlism might catch up with me yet, but more and more of my friends are convinced that I’m meant to live on this side of the world.

 

Piers’ parents’ beautiful house

 

Perhaps it is easier to wake up early here, knowing that my day will be relaxing or fun, and not plagued by the 101 worries that I get back home.

I don’t understand why it should be different, though.

It’s not like I’m a different person here. I’m still the same person with the same concerns. I’m still working as usual (blogging) so I can’t technically say that I’m on vacation. It would be more accurate to say that I’ve moved home and shifted my workplace for three weeks.

I haven’t left the apartment in more than two days since Piers left, leaving me without a tour guide. So I’ve been holed up indoors (by choice), passing my time eating, reading, blogging and chatting with friends online. Exactly what I’d been doing in Singapore.

But it’s a lot more fun doing that here.

Maybe it’s because there are birds sweetly chirping outside the window.

 

 

Sorry about the foggy spots. They’re raindrops on the window.

I’m sure we get chirpy singing birds in Singapore, too, but I don’t have any memory of that. I can only recall squawking crows and mynas that shit on your car.

But as much as staying home is appealing, I think I should go out soon before I meet with a major accident.

I might be the only person in the world you know who can get into an accident just lying in bed.

I usually sleep with all my gadgets. They sleep on the right side of the bed.

 

 

This morning, when I woke up, I pulled the Macbook onto me (while still lying down) to check my e-mail and stuff.

I propped it up on a cushion to elevate the screen so I could see it. It’s a bit awkward typing in this position but I can still type pretty quickly this way.

 

 

So, then, I was chatting on MSN and, for a brief moment, I took my hands off the keyboard to shift my body a bit.

My movement caused the Macbook to slide down the slippery cushion and bop me on the chin.

It was a bit painful but I was fine. I only required four stitches and my psychiatrist said I should be over the trauma in three years.

 

 

(That was a joke. I’m really fine.)

But it could have been worse. The Macbook could have flown off the cushion and taken my jaw out.

This is just like the iPhone incident I had two years ago. Wow, I can’t believe it’s been that long. I can still remember the incident so clearly.

On the bright side, it’s a good sign that my bedroom accident count is only once every two years. I don’t think my ego can take any more than that.

Maybe I should stop allowing my gadgets to sleep with me.