It's not that I don't have anything to say. It's that I'm too bloody exhausted to look at the computer screen and type.

I did this to myself with specific intention.I've been intimately involved with reverse-culture shock off and on for two decades now. I know better than having hours to fill. I know better than ten-minute breaks from the busy. I know better than sitting in stand-still traffic. I know how to railroad my mind away from reality.

I'd forgotten though that seven-years away make for culture shock. Seven years away, and I chose to return to a part of the country I thought only existed in American fairy stories. My cultural memory is useless, almost as useless as American double sheets on an English bed. I made plans to be run off my feet until I remembered what America is like. Turns out, I should have planned for the sleeping that accompanies the exploration of a new homeland.

And so it is that I'm trying to make a pattern: teach, mark, nephew, mark, teach, mark, sleep, lather rinse, repeat. Come New Year there may be more news.