“It’s all right, Ma, I’m only jet-lagged.”

Actually I’m not; that’s what’s unusual, since my let-lag episodes are typically notorious, lasting days, and even weeks, costing me friends and sales, and inspiring zombie movies for the last thirty years. This time, though, it’s almost nothing, nothing anyway that couldn’t be accounted for by any twenty hours of flight divided by a nine-hour layover, regardless of the time zones involved.

I did the same thing, almost, to Uzbekistan, with a twenty-hour layover in Germany, only a few months ago, and thought I would never become normal again, the two sides of my self split into warring factions, and playing some hide-and-seek game of the soul. This time, though, poof! almost nothing. Does that mean that I could again fly LAX to BKK with a layover in Munich and expect the same? I doubt it. It doesn’t work that way. The only problem is that I’m not sure how it does work…