We’ve met before. Mostly for short periods of time. I never really minded you, since our encounters were so short lived. A couple days at a time and you were off again. I have no control over you.
You were my first companion here in Australia. Chauffeuring me across multiple time zones into the wee hours of the morning in the land down under. I knew this time we’d be stuck together for longer. I didn’t imagine it would be this long, though.
It’s been two weeks and it’s clear it’s not working out. For me, at least. I’m through with you keeping me up at night when I’m dead tired and all I want is sleep . Even worse, when I least want to see you, you tug me out of an exhaustive slumber as the sun starts to rise, just to let me know you’re still there. You’re a petulant child, begging for attention.
Each day as the city begins to bustle, you scamper off. Probably to bother some other poor innocent soul. And I think maybe, just maybe this time you’ll be gone for good.
But you keep coming back.
I’m writing this letter to let you know that we’re over. We’re done. Nope, not even going to do it in person. I don’t ever want to see you again. But I know I will. For now though, our Australian affair is over. I’m ready to see other people.
Jetlag, I’m breaking up with you ya little beyotch.
Seriously though, since I’ve arrived I keep waking up at 6:30 without fail. Doesn’t matter what time I go to bed. TWO WEEKS. Just go away already. That’s what a 14 hour time difference will do to you I guess.