I just had the thought: “You have jet lag.  Don’t write in your blog today.”  It was immediately replaced by: “Write your blog while you have jet lag.”  I choose the second one.

First of all, any thought about the quality of today’s writing is drifting away.  It’s not important.  I barely have the oomph to proofread.  Oh well … I’ll write something.

I flew overnight on Sunday from Toronto to Brussels, arriving about 8:00 am on Monday.  No sleep on the plane.  At the airport I was in a lineup for Customs for over an hour and I couldn’t have cared less.  I even talked with an American guy in line about US politics.  And that’s so unlike me.  Maybe I should fly overnight more often, just to see what version of Bruce shows up.

After taking the train to Gent, it was time for a tram.  I stood at Perron 20 for seemingly endless minutes until someone told me that it was the wrong stop for Tram 4 – it had moved to Perron 18 in my absence.  Such discussions met a mind that was slowly fading away.

At last home in my apartment building.  My suitcase was pretty close to the 23 kilogram limit and I knew that the fifty steps up to my apartment was far too much for this dreary body and mind.  I went into the Bento House restaurant on the ground floor and asked Li to carry my bag upstairs.  I knew he would help me, and he was happy to.  A good neighbour.

(A little voice just said “Stop writing.  Tell them you’ll continue tomorrow.”  A response came, with respect: “No.”)

I know the prevailing wisdom about jet lag: “Stay awake as long as you can into the evening of the new place.”  I set a goal of 9:00 pm.  It seemed like approximately forever into the future.

I needed to eat.  And so came a meal at Lunchroom Martens.  It was so busy that there was no chance to talk to hosts Fran and Lieve … and I needed to talk.

Next I dropped into Jagger’s, one of my favourite breakfast places.  Thank God Franky had a few minutes to talk.  I stumbled through my words but at least they came.  Speaking, listening – I know how to do those things.

(Oh boy.  Why am I doing this?  Fuzzy head leads to fuzzy words?  Okay … that’s better than no words.)

Back at home.  “How do I stay awake till 9?  I know.  I’ll go to the CNN app and read what Donald Trump has to say.  That should jolt me awake!”  And it worked.

As the sun’s decline accompanied my own, I decided to watch a movie.  That should work as well.  I chose War Games on Prime Video.  It was the story of a teenaged guy who accidentally hacked into a US military site and started a “game” which the government thought was real: the Soviet Union was sending missiles our way!  I saw the flick maybe twenty years ago and magically remembered some of the dialogue.  I shook my head at the marvels of an older, exhausted human brain.

Movie done at 9:20.  Body horizontal at 9:25.  Sleep.

***

I did it!  All this writing, I mean.  Hope you enjoyed my meanderings.