The sleep of death

I just woke up from a near 12 hour sleep. Hard and on the couch. I feel like I have woken up in another world like Mork, only it's just the world of Saturday afternoon. One of those so good but so wrong kinda moments.

Friends with kids are thinking 'cry me a damn river' I am sure. But seriously, it is a slightly surreal feeling especially when unintended. But when the horizontal body talks, I'm not about to interrupt for a coffee break. The back story is that I re-arrived in Budapest six days ago from ye olde transatlantic flight and I realize that the nine hour time difference from LA is that much much more of an ass kicker. And I arrived to an incredibly intensive week of twelve hour days in the office with a couple of semi-sleepless or at least sleep-light days in between. So I deserve the hours and have some credits remaining in my sleep deposit balance sheet, but the sensation of missing an entire day (ne the only opportunity to buy proper fresh food til Monday), fills me such awe and guilt, the only way I can forgive myself this indulgence is to reveal all online!

Oh well, better get ready for dinner soon!