Sleepless international limbo

We made it through the seven-hour overnighter from O'Hare to Heathrow just fine, although my streak of not sleeping on airplanes remains sadly unbroken. (Snuggling a brought-from-home pillow, I managed to doze slightly, but I seem incapable of actually falling asleep sitting up. I find myself genuinely considering saving up for business-class seats next time; paying three and a half times the coach fare almost seems worth it to arrive at least a little rested.) Somewhat oddly, despite getting at least a few hours of sleep, Brian's been much grumpier than I have; I don't know if I handle sleep deprivation better, or if my background grumpiness levels are higher and thus a little extra grump is less noticeable on me.

But really, the whole reason this entry exists is so I can post this picture of him conked out on the floor of Terminal 5:



I may just join him. Intrepid international adventurers, the both of us.