Whatever Happened To Baby Jane Is Not Entertainment

A selfie at Tel Aviv Airport before we left. 

We have been suffering from Jet Lag since arriving home last week. This is totally unnecessary when only travelling through two  time zones but as usual, I messed up.

I get drawn into a personal challenge when booking EasyJet flights. I have to try to get the price down to the cheapest I can within our possible dates for travelling. We only take hand luggage. That may change next time as I'm fed up of having to leave stuff at my Mum's to bring home next time and that scary moment of will it? - won't it? fit into the checking frame. We don't choose our seats, or do speedy boarding, or pay to carry an extra purse onto the plane. And I cannot resist those early morning and late night flights that are tuppence hapenny cheaper.

It's a false economy because we arrive in Luton around midnight and have to leave Stanmore for the return journey at 4 am - both journeys requiring a minicab which swallows the full savings we made on the flights. And still I find myself doing it.

There are advantages to these anti-social flight times. For example, Deeds (that's DD, I nicknamed DD after almost seven years) sleeps on the plane, you get an almost full working day before you leave, and you arrive home in the afternoon with time to get yourself organised to go back to work the next day. The only horrible bit is getting up at 3 am to leave for the airport.

This time I decided to stay up and not have that awful having to drag myself out of bed. Whatever Happened To Baby Jane was on television at 10.30 and not finishing until 12.45. I remember seeing it about 40 years ago but couldn't remember any of the details - except that one sister was in a wheelchair and the other one hates her. Mum and I watched it while playing kalooki and trying to second guess what happened next. Mum only remembered the budgie, I thought I remembered the wheelchair being thrown down the stairs or someone falling down them, but I was wrong.

Through the mirrored ceiling at Luton Airport.
I have a red bag at my feet and I'm looking up.
(Or don't bother trying to find me and just read on.)

OMG. What a depressing film. It's hard enough having to leave all the festivities of Christmas and travel back to Nochristmasland on Christmas Eve. And staying up all night has not had any magic attached to it since I was 21. By the time the film ended I was thoroughly miserable. (I admit that there was a good little twist in the tale/tail.) We had to have another match of kalooki while watching Escape to the Country in order to cheer ourselves up.

We slept on the plane. Landed in Tel Aviv at 14.30. Arrived home in Jerusalem at 17.00. (We took a shared mini-bus taxi and had to go round the whole city while eight other passengers were dropped off before us. It costs 25GBP whereas a private taxi costs 70GBP, which is why we do it.) And then we were home and not at all tired. So we went to bed late and couldn't get up in the morning.

This has continued all week because Deeds keeps falling asleep on the sofa around 5 pm and waking up at 7.30. I have been catching up on work that I didn't do while away so I've also been going to bed extremely late. In a spectacular finale, we both fell asleep at 3.30pm this afternoon and woke up at 8. We're screwed. Tomorrow night we're getting into bed at 8 whether we're tired or not, and no napping during the day!