If I tell you I flew into Innsbruck on Sunday, out of Salzburg on Tuesday and in and out of Milan tomorrow (I should say today), you'll say, how impossibly glamorous, but it's just making me feel as if I've been shaken out of a cereal packet from a great height.
Partly the problem for me is the lack of sleep - the three days I spent in Austria kicked off with a four am alarm call on Sunday morning and a succession of late nights and early mornings. The trip to Milan is another four am call, so it's utterly dandy that, despite having gone to bed early, I find I'm as awake as if hooked to a caffeine drip, super-stressed and hyper-anxious, riven with existential angst and a clawing inability to locate myself in the here and now.
Of course, small dark hours bring large dark thoughts - all the positives have fled, I'm paralysed by panic, and once again I'm Chicken Licken, convinced the sky will fall in.
And if you told me the sky wasn't falling in, it was only an acorn that had dropped on my head, I wouldn't believe you.