Sleep is Overrated.

The other night, I awoke after about two hours’ worth of sleep with the mother of all cases of heartburn. It was unlike any that I’ve had before, and as you do when you’re by yourself with no one to tell you otherwise, you convince yourself that you’re having a heart attack.

I Googled this for a good 10 minutes before determining that I was a dolt and it was indeed just heartburn.

Thank goodness I had WiFi. I planned the rest of my Australian adventures, managed to once again lock myself out of my credit card account online (an ongoing adventure in itself), ate an entire sleeve of Tums, got caught up on TMZ, and before I knew it, 4 a.m. rolled around.

I rearranged the covers in an effort to get cozy, switched off the light, and dozed off before BAM heartburn returned. I sobbed a little – I had a big day planned, as it was my last full day in Sydney, and I didn’t really want to spend the entire day snoozing – and got out of bed again, exhausted.

Thank goodness, in addition to WiFi, for Skype. I caught up with my best pal, waiting for a flight to London. (at least I think I did, the conversation may have been one-sided as I think I dozed in the middle of it). A former Sydney resident, he suggested going down to the beach to see the sunrise and then having an early brekkie.

My accommodations were a good 20-minute walk to the beach on a good day. With two hours of sleep under my belt, it took me almost 45. Man that was a slow walk. I almost parked myself on a bench to take a nap. As I neared the beach, a bus roared by, which would’ve been much-appreciated 40 minutes before. That thing got the look of death from me.

At any rate, I missed the beginning of the sunrise but had I been wearing socks, they would have been knocked off:

I fell asleep on the beach, worn out from the lack of sleep, long walk, and free from heartburn. I was rudely disturbed by the sounds of a loud horn, and awoke to a tractor in my face. Oops. Desperately needing caffeine and carbs, I went for breakfast.

Again, those socks would’ve come flying off. It was delicious (I of course took a photo of it):

 

I flipped a mental coin, and decided rather than napping the day away I should make the most of it – catching up with the lovely Amy whom I met on the ferry in New Zealand and laughing at her travel stories (never, ever, ever, bring electronics of any kind to the beach. No matter where you think the tide will be, chances are it will go further and snatch away your belongings in a scenario hilarious to everyone but you), seeing a friend from residence and cramming in a lot of sight-seeing. The day culminated in a trip on the ferry to see the harbour lit up – if I had a half-decent camera there would be marvelous pictures of this, but you’ll just have to take my word for it and do this yourself should you come to Sydney.

Things you should not do in Sydney (or anywhere, really): pull all-nighters when you’re over 23 and far too old to pull it off anymore.

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