Hedonistic Holidays

It's been five days since we returned from our holiday in England and yet I'm still jet lagged - sleeping at 4am, getting up at 2pm...

The prospect of waking up for work at 7am tomorrow is dreadful, knowing I'm going to be exhausted after a night of trying to sleep.

We've had one of our best holidays yet - going to England truly felt like going back home. It was 12 glorious days of meeting up with friends and family, getting pissed and liberated, having barbys in the british sunshine, basking in the clear air, sitting on the wet grass of homey gardens, driving through desolate country lanes in the frosty cold mornings, and even, experiencing the grim, incessant rain that so characterises the country.

J and I have decided that it's no longer a possibility but now an eventuality that we will be moving back there after my cursed bond ends. There's too much there that we love; and sadly, it's easier for me to move there with J than for him to live here in Sg forever with me.

It's either him without his friends and family, or me, without my friends and family. Due to our circumstances, we'll never be able to live in one country where both of us can be with those dear to us...

It's a bit sad, but sacrifices are inevitable. How I wish I could just extract those I love and just take them with me wherever I go, very much like my favourite cds I take along on holidays - but they too have their own lives and I see the only solution now for both J and I to be able to see whoever we love at any time, is to find a way to teleport through time and space.

That's why I'm observing that Jap fella Hiro in Heroes very closely now.

I'm dreading somewhat the next long haul flight I have to do this Saturday, when I go to Switzerland for work - I've taken too many long haul flights in a short span of time, and this time, I won't even have a shoulder to lean on - just the cold, hard window.

What is surprising is that for the rather hedonistic holiday we've had, I feel surprisingly recharged. Poor J fell ill as soon as he came back and it really is a case of "needing a holiday to recover from your holiday" that many are victims of....

But after drinking a heinous amount of alcohol (I'm talking about an average of at least ten drinks a day), doing stuff I shouldn't really be doing, irregular eating times and lots of super sweet drinks (orange juice and lemonade - my favourite British summer drink!) I seem to feel fine and even managed to lose some weight goodness knows how.

I feel great, healthy, and all set to take on the world again - very different from the usual ten-day hangovers I get from doing anything vaguely hedonistic as I'm quite a lightweight (in british measures, not singapore. singapore girls are beyond lightweights when it comes to drink, they are useless with a few exceptions)

Perhaps its my new hair - I've chopped all of my wavy locks off.
Perhaps it was that Saturday night when I got much more than what I asked for, or the other Saturday night that's reinvigorated me, changed my perspective, added to my autobiography.

But I feel like I've lived.

And now I want to live some more.