Italy to NYC–post haste, but not without a tear

Jet lag. Even after doing everything I had been trained to do, I had acquired a serious case of jet lag. I couldn’t seem to snap back. I couldn’t seem to ARRIVE. I could say it was the cold I picked up from the plane, but I think it was something deeper. What was it? Had I been gone so long I felt like a foreigner? No… I was too happy to see the Manhattan skyline. Was I afraid?… Very possibly. The “what now?” question lingered in the back of my subconscious, and I didn’t like it.

The Galavant Girl: Italian Winter: Entry 2