Yesterday morning we landed in London at about 9am. It took two hours to get to the hotel; an hour after that my crew still sat in the hotel crew room, chatting away. I read the paper and called my husband. I mused how was nice that the crew liked each other enough to still be sitting there hanging out, but I was tired. I thought, “This is crazy, it’s 7am (body clock time)! I’m going to bed.” So I stood up, announced, “I’m taking 1st break, y’all. Good night!” and made to leave.
They all kinda shrugged and just said, “ok”. I was surprised they did not at least say a proper good night as I left, much less chuckle. Then I got to the exit….and realized I didn’t know what room I was going to. Now what had I done with my key? Hm. Wait a minute….We were all still sitting there because we hadn’t been given rooms yet! I was just so tired that I’d forgotten why we weren’t in bed. Dur.
Jet lag makes me seriously drunk.