Do you have an insomnia movie?

Mine is Bridget Jones's Diary. Yeah, shut up. Tonight it is my jetlag/insomnia/sleeping pills movie. I should not have slept all day yesterday. This has not helped the Body Clock. But the Mark Darcy action. This helps. Yes, it does.

So. Hi there. I'm back in Brisbane after four (FOUR. FRICKING FOUR.) consecutive flights yesterday, because apparently La Paz is a bloody hard place to get out of. I had a most excellent plan to force sleep upon myself for the final, long-haul flight from LA to Brisbane, which worked wonders before I was jolted awake by my repeated farting, and bolted to the toilet. I then dozed in between my toilet visits, which occurred regularly, i.e. every HALF AN HOUR.

I think it was just my body being a spiteful shit (so to speak), because I cannot work out what I could've eaten to have caused this misery, having only eaten a cheeseburger at LAX (I don't even like Macca's that much, but the craving was unbelievable) and airline food on the many flights.

Right now, I am feeling extremely alert for 5am. I am also feeling:

• Satisfied after gorging myself on Subway.
• Puzzled every time I use the toilet, because the water seems too low and I don't have to shove the used paper in the bin.
• Apologies for all of the toilet talk. I'll stop now.
• An overwhelming desire to be a girl. After a month of having to skip showers (because they didn't exist, didn't work, or I couldn't handle freezing cold water when it was 5 degrees), having extremely shit hair, and dressing in dirty, bummish clothing that gives me a figure like that of Mr. Blobby, I want nothing more than to put on something pretty out of my own wardrobe, wash my hair with shampoo and conditioner that weren't chosen purely for their space-saving properties, and tart myself up in general.
• I guarantee that I will be the most overdressed person when I go out to dinner on Friday evening.
• Regret. At not buying the most expensive shoes in Bolivia (at the exorbitant sum of around $50) and becoming the owner of the tartiest, stiletto FM boots that the world has ever seen. But I think I am quite right in thinking that I will never, ever wear them. Unless I fulfil my long-held desire to become a good girl prostitute with a perm, i.e. Julia Roberts.
• Woah! People update a LOT in a month. I am glad I have four days off before I have to go back to work, because I am now on full-time blog-reading duty between now and then. Hooray!
  

I have a stack of bills to pay, a necessary visit to the transport department, a souvenier pack to send to Ireland, a Very Necessary haircut planned, a kitchen to re-stock, a feisty shit of a cockatiel to pick up, a new pair of jeans to buy now that my current favourites are continually falling down, hundreds of photos and hours of video footage to go through, a phone call to make to work telling them that I'm back, many hours to spend gorging myself on food that won't make me vomit, jetlag to get over, a few tears to shed over the realisation that cocktails won't cost $1 any more, and some shitty humidity to get used to.

And then I'll be back on this blogging bandwagon fo' sho', yo.