I'm always a terrible sleeper the night before a red eye flight and last night/ tonight (it's still dark) was no exception. The pressure to fall asleep in order to wake four hours later is always too much and I lay in bed making lists, with all noise amplified outside -  a dripping tap started just for me, first time ever, had to be this night. When waking at 3.45am I feel quite ill, strangely starving, and have all sorts of weird thoughts that can only be put down to my brain thinking that it's dream time, not awake time. My brain is right about this, no day should start when it's still pitch black outside.

In the taxi, wearing tights and a Lonely Hearts shirt dress (pure comfort), I am thinking about a recent blog post where a blogger wore her skin tight leather pants for a long haul International flight, claiming how ridiculously comfortable they are. This is the random stuff I think about at 4.44am, leather is indeed extremely comfortable, but its not worth the dry-cleaning wasting them on the plane, keep those pants fresh for when someone can see your butt in them.

Prepared for the grueling security queues and check throughs I feel almost disappointed to see that the airport is basically empty and as I breeze through International check in in less than 20 minutes. I count how many extra minutes I could have stayed snuggled in bed, still an hour and a half until my flight leaves, still feeling like I've been on a bender, wondering what a girl's to do if the food stores haven't even opened yet. 

So here I am writing a blog post, choosing to write a diary for my week in New Zealand - obviously sleep deprivation makes me optimistic about how much spare time I am going to have this week, but we will see how I go.

5am waiting for my flight.