My plan to get over the jet-lag pretty much worked (this involved not sleeping throughout the 21 hour flight and all of Sunday), and I felt largely okay at work today. When I reached the security barrier at work, which requires either a proximity card or else a brief exchange with some security guy over the intercom (in the case of temporary employees), I discovered there was some new guy on security, who had never heard of me, and was a bit suspicious of my weird looking identity card (this bearing the old company logo and actually being a magnetic swipe card (and therefore of no functional use in the new building)), so (and perfectly reasonably) asked that I sign in (or whatever) at the reception desk. So this I did, and as I was there, showing my identity card to the security guard, I saw Steve go through the security gate. We greeted each other and blah, blah, blah, and then Steve said, "So what are you doing?" and, in Steve's eyes, I was just standing there, holding my identity card aloft to the security guard, who had long since acknowledged and let me through. But, you know, I was talking to Steve and . . . well, just didn't realise. Steve put it down to jet-lag. Yeah . . . I like that, "Sorry I butchered your wife and children - I was jet-lagged, you see."

Yeah, so . . . got to work fairly early (well, for me anyway) and left late. In the evening, hopefully almost over the jet-lag, I found myself asleep on M****'s living room floor . . . apparently I was out for about half an hour, as M**** and Liz laughed at my sleeping form.