A familiar fog

I am in a familiar fog. It's the "I just spent the last three days madly buying last minute items and packing them, then 14 hours being hurdled across the ocean in a pressurized metal tube during which I could not sleep so I watched my personal viewing screen until I killed off a sufficient number of brain cells, then I slept 6 hours in my bed which sounds decent except I went to sleep at 8:30, and now I have not one ounce of adrenaline so I'm capable of nothing and our kids are running wild for lack of supervision" fog. This one has a few added bonuses like doing the 24 hours before leaving the States without Erik, who left ahead of us, and trying to do jet lag with a dog (who thought it was cool to get up at 2:30, and then decided that 3:45 was an awesome time to go outside).

I feel like this fog has actually been worse the last couple times. When we landed in Minnesota, by the end of my first full day I was debating which would happen first - I would vomit, or my head would explode from pain, or I would collapse from exhaustion. Answer: option 3, at 6:40 pm. I thought once the kids were older, jet lag would be easier. Unfortunately I forget the corresponding truth, which is that I am also now older.

But on the up side, I only have to do this one more time (because no, I never ever plan to travel ever again). At least I only have plans to do it once more. This is one part of the expat life I will not miss.