Brisbane, Queensland
I'm not dead.
Although in many ways it and jetlag are the same. Well, expect for the no breathing, no pulse part I guess. OK, maybe being jetlagged is more like being the undead, all gormless unresponsive-eyed zombie shuffling.
I left my parents house at 2.30PM, we easily made it to the airport in time for me to enjoy a long wait for my plane to board. Turns out I was waiting in exactly the right place, which was annoying after I walked to the departure screen ...