After a 17-hour flight (during which Ragsy slept a total of 6-7 hours; consequently, I've found out that I'm a lot more patient than I thought since Ragsy insisted on sleeping and sitting on me constantly and there were no extra seats), a 10-hour layover and another three-hour flight, we arrived back in St. Louis at 6:30 p.m. last night. It was wonderful to get back, though it's somewhat anticlimactic when you haven't slept in more that 36 hours and your house is 55 degrees and you need to go to the supermarket immediately because your son is hungry and you have one egg and stale bread in the fridge.
I have so much to say, but I'm tired again, so I'll have to try tomorrow. Ragsy and I are still adjusting to the new time zone (St. Louis is about 11 and a half hours behind Bombay). My son was up bright and early this morning at 1:30 and again at 6. Which turned out to be okay because I woke up at 4:45 and couldn't go back to sleep, either, so I took over and my husband slept in. So now I'm feeling pretty dead. It doesn't help that I'm hopped up on Motrin and cold medicine because I'm still trying to shake this rotten cold I got in Bombay.
Nonetheless, we had a wonderful, wonderful time. I'm sure you'll get tired of hearing about it. I'm still looking forward to working tomorrow, though - I'm not a rigidly scheduled person, but some structure is good. Oh, well. Enough rambling. Bedtime.
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