How to be a Serial Insomniac: Lesson One

Come to Turkey, and drink some of this:


I was totally manic yesterday, and no doubt this Turkish coffee will induce more of the same, but it’s just so good. A asked me at the airport yesterday if I was on drugs, such was my mania. Then he laughed at me. People around us were looking at me as if I was a freak. Which to be fair I was (am).

A said I should blog about it, but I was way too restless to do that. I’m in a good mood today (!) but not manic, so it’s hard to describe. Anyway, I’m sitting in a Turkish coffee shop writing this on my phone, so it’s not the ideal medium to communicate it anyway. I will try to do so at another juncture, though.

I didn’t get publishing the draft post about Lovely GP and C and the aftermath of the psychiatric disaster of Tuesday, because even plane safe phones weren’t allowed to be switched on during the flight (what the fuck?). But I’ll get there.

For now, though, I’m going to concentrate on trying to enjoy my holiday. A and I are both in relaxed and good moods, which is a ridiculously unusual occurrence (we estimate the last time this happened was when we were in Lanzarote in May 2008). So we had better take advantage of it.


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