The Monsters of Travel Tiredness

Does anybody else change fundamentally as a human being when they’re tired enough?

I’m sitting here in Adelaide International Airport in South Australia and I haven’t slept in 24 hours, and things are getting weird.
It also didn’t help that during my last couple days of China I slept no more than 6 hours each night so I could get the most out of the country before I left.
So with all this in mind, I hope this post comes out with at least a tiny piece of readability, although I’m not holding my breath.

Every time I get this tired another version of me surfaces and destroys the entire town, this time it’s anxiety. I don’t mind the anxiety monster so much, it’s far preferable to the silly one that can rant for hours on the merits of fake spreadable butter. However I’m not enjoying the skin crawling, finger wringing, irrational fear that is surfacing from this.

I’m weirdly worried about these things, and at this point I’m unsure which of these things I should really be worried about:

  • My bank closing down, forcing me to go in and withdraw all my money and get attacked by creepy old men like in Mary Poppins
  • That if I drink the last sip of coke my stomach will rupture a hole and food will spill into my legs
  • Next time I eat out I’m going to accidentally say “thank you” in Chinese to waiters and they’ll think I’m a douche
  • My stomach fat is permanent and that it’s going to form into a small alien and jump out of my body like in Doctor Who
  • That I’m never going to meet Julianne Moore
  • Or that tic tac’s are actually drugs that are killing us

The sun is shining on me really brightly through the windows, but theres no where I can go to seek shelter. What can one do to beat the monsters of travel tiredness?
I’m rotten at sleeping on planes, and sleeping here in the terminal is made impossible with those stupid armrests between all the individual chairs.
The carpet dust would kill me, so I simply must stay awake. I’ve also reached my limit on both sugar and caffein so my feet are shaking and that tooth at the back of my mouth is hurting.

So if I can’t sleep and I can’t take anything more (stimulation wise) whats left? And how haven’t I mastered this yet? I feel like every time I travel is the first time, I can’t get better at this. The last coffee I bought I tried to pay for before telling her what I wanted, and I asked the lady in the book shop if her eyes hurt as much as mine.

I think the only way through this is to suffer on, and continue to loathe flying.
I’m finding that disliking flying isn’t something that anyone pities me for. Part of the job of a friend is to pity you when your forced to do something you don’t enjoy, but when I tell any friend that I’m stuck with tons of flights which I hate, sympathy is nowhere.

I guess it’s because it’s something people generally enjoy, plus it gets you somewhere awesome, but I don’t think the end justifies the means in this case. Getting somewhere awesome doesn’t justify the middle bit where you feel like this, feeling terrible.

Friends deal with it! I don’t like flying … pity me? …. No still? … One day.
One day I hope to live in an America or Australia where someone can fly and his friends can say “oh thats a bummer, sorry for your lot” and I’ll say “Right?” Because flying is the worst. Even if at the end is something awesome.

Anyway, I’m gonna go on suffering through this waking transport nightmare, but please subscribe, it’s not all whining.
I’ll talk again soon, you guys rock.

Can press studs kill you?

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