I found myself stumbling and tripping while desperately filling a glass with water to quench an incredible thirst. I felt woozy, dizzy, and disoriented, as if beset by a horrible hangover after an all- night binge. Which I guess was rather to be expected since I just spent the past three weeks inebriating myself on bella Italia and was now paying the price with a bad case of jetlag.
I arrived in New York yesterday afternoon ragged and bedraggled. Airline travel saps my energy and luster like nobody's business and leaves me blotchy-faced and wiped out. I heaved my suitcase off the carousel to find it resting in a pool of blood, evidence of red wine hemorrhage seeping from its pores. Despite my very careful packing and many previous experiences of wine-hauling, the baggage handlers at JFK managed to find a way to create carnage in my bag. I discovered my hand-carved stone timbro di pane from Matera was busted as well. The newspapers and expensive magazines I had packed served as gauze to soak up the bleeding, ruining them all.
I awoke at 3:00 a.m. with the hangover symptoms, despite not having drank anything, and tossed around in bed trying to reclaim some snippets of sleep, mostly unsuccessfully. An afternoon's nap will hopefully get me through to this evening as I attempt to put my body clock back onto the Eastern US time zone.
Internet access was rather sporadic throughout my trip but I haven't forgotten about the birthday present. The Baci gifts I brought home are safe and dry and tomorrow I will have Bryan pick a winner out of a hat. Now excuse me while I prop my eyes open long enough to extract red wine from my clothes...