Jetlag can have me

I’m back in Singapore and suffering from jetlag.

Went to bed at 11 pm and woke up at 3 am feeling wide awake and hungry because it was dinner time (8 pm) in England.

I SMSed Piers to tell him I was awake and he was, like, “Go back to sleep! You’ve got to get over this jetlag!”

But jetlag happens when it wants to; there’s no getting over it.




Speaking of jets, I was mysteriously upgraded to Premium Economy on British Airways (costs about $800 more one way). It’s a small, private cabin with about 32 passengers or thereabouts, nestled between Business Class and Economy Class.

There was enough leg room so that I didn’t have to get up if my neighbour needed to go to the toilet but that didn’t actually matter because my neighbour slept the entire way through the 13-hour flight, waking up only for meals.

Love neighbours who just go to sleep and don’t do annoying things.

She was a middle-aged Chinese lady who couldn’t understand English very well. When our flight attendant asked her whether she wanted tea or coffee, she said, “Yes, please.”

I was sitting in the first row immediately after Business Class so that meant incredible leg room plus the chance to exit the plane really quickly after we landed. That was great. I really hate being stuck at the back, having to wait for people to unload their cabin bags.


On the plane


I’m back in Singapore for only a month this time. Piers is flying me back to England on July 15 because he wants to be with me for my birthday (July 23).

How sweet is that. =)

And then I’ll be there for two months because his birthday is in September.

I feel a bit like a nomad, except a nomad has no fixed home and I have two homes. It’s a bit disorienting and hard to plan stuff. Like, do I buy Piers’ birthday present in Singapore or in England?

We’re on Gtalk video now and I just told him I’ll buy him a microwave oven for his birthday.

I don’t know how English people live without microwaves. They’re happy to spend 30 minutes cooking a handful of meatballs in the conventional oven when it can be done in two minutes in the microwave oven.

Sure, some things are better oven baked or stove cooked, but the microwave can save a lot of time for many cooking chores, like heating milk, for instance.


Swedish meatballs


Anyway, to the microwave, he said, “Nooooooooooo.”

Then, “You don’t have to buy me anything. I just want you here.”


But I don’t know. Don’t people always say, “Don’t buy me anything for my birthday,” and then feel disappointed when they don’t receive anything?

So, do people mean it when they say not to get them anything?

But I’m sure Piers meant what he said. He’s visibly mortified each time I so much as spend a pound on him. (And he’s really cute when he’s mortified.)


I think he’s going to be a lot more mortified when he sees this next picture.


Love note


It’s a love note!


He had sneakily left it in a pocket of my handbag when I wasn’t looking, just before we left for the airport.

Can’t show you inside; it’s private!

I didn’t even know he’d done that until I was home in Singapore and about to go to bed and he told me on the phone.

He had placed it in the pocket full of junk that I usually don’t clear out for weeks (or months).

Sigh! Makes me miss him more.


It’s now 7:30 am. Piers has just gone to bed in England (12:30 am). It’s about the right time for me to wake up. I can hear the neighbourhood starting to get busy and noisy (I live by the main road so there are always traffic sounds).

But I think shall go to bed. Jetlag can have me.

Good morning!