Holding Pattern

We got back Thursday, middday.  And since you can't leave Anchorage during the day (unless you're going somewhere else in Alaska), it was an overnight flight followed by a layover in Houston followed by the last leg.  I didn't sleep more than an hour, and that in 15 and 20 minute pieces, during any of that time.  I've learned that the easiest way to acclimate to a new west-to-east time zone is to stay awake until dark, so once home I ate some soup (only thing my stomach would take) and parked in front of the TV for some TiVo catch-up - migraine and all.

I made it to 5 p.m. before I went down like the Titanic.

Next morning at 8 a.m. I woke, feeling that fuzzy, stiff, head-banging barf-fest that only a fifth of Scotch or a trains-and-planes all-nighter can produce.  Took me all day Friday to lose the worst of it - since Saturday was the monthly flea market I really wanted to lose all of it, but I settled (for no real reason, as it turned out, because Labor Day is not a good day for that market).  By Sunday, when I had students crammed in like sardines in a can, I had something approaching a brain (thank the gods and little fishes) but the truth is, I'm still not back to normal.

It's not surprising, then, that when my camera's memory card wanted me to reformat it before I could download the pictures to my computer, no matter which computer or what trick I tried, I pretty much hit the wall.  I'm even afraid to photograph my finds (and there are plenty) with a different card for fear that it will have the same nervous breakdown.

So until the Big Lug figures it all out, I'm in Limbo, waiting patiently (now that my psychic knuckles are bruised) for the snafus to level out.  I will catch up on my backlog of responsibilities, keep hunting (found a bracelet and a pair of pearl earrings already), and eventually - eventually - post pictures, of both my finds and our biggest National Treasure, but until then ...

... cue Elevator's Favorite Hits.