A fish swims into a bar...

I think there is something wrong with me. I am tired, lethargic and have no energy. I go swimming but am sluggish. After only a single lap, I feel like I am pulling a 20 stone, 96 year old me through jelly. My body complains of aches and pains and my head is beginning feel like it's no longer attached to my body; I can't sleep, and then when I do, I wake up several times a night convinced someone must have clambered under my mosquito net with a screwdriver to tighten my jaw and secure my shoulders a couple of inches closer to my ears. I have strange dreams in which people are being abducted using handkerchiefs laced with noxious substances (in another I am frantically attempting to save a friend who has been locked in a tiny oven on a boat!). My appetite appears to belong to someone (or something) else, and I think I could probably make a pretty good attempt at challenging the world record for the most ginger nuts eaten in one sitting (there must be one, surely?).

Now, I can't deny that I am prone to an occasional spot of hypochondriasis, I'm actually rather good at it as if happens. And so, I took to my self diagnosing google search with a surprising burst of new found energy and enthusiasm, starting of course with the most deadly of diseases and working my way down the list. I am pleased to announce that I have managed to rule out a great number of life threatening diseases along with some less serious ailments. I have neither a fever nor a rash, and so I can safely remove dengue fever, bird flu and malaria from the list (for now, at least). Instead, it seems that I may be enjoying a small bout of culture shock. Is that a collective “harumph” I hear as it dawns on you I seem to be seeking your sympathy for the trials of living in a tropical paradise away from the dull dank drizzle of home? Please bear with me. I can honestly assure you that no sympathy (well, not much anyway) and only another minute of your attention is required.

Yes, it all fits. Put those vague and irritating physical ailments together with a few other tell tale signs and it makes perfect sense. Why else would the “simple” bus journey to and from work have become so emotionally charged that I begin to imagine I might spontaneously combust? And what is it about a trip to the local supermarket that pushes me dangerously close to shouting the best and worst swear words I know at the top of my voice? What else could possibly explain the increasingly frequent absence of my sense of humour whilst others around me laugh hysterically, the wistful passing thoughts of the afore mentioned dull dank drizzle, or more worryingly still, the whole conversations I am having with my 3 pet goldfish on a daily basis?!

No, absolutely no need to panic. It's quite alright, they warned me about this. It's to be expected. It is perfectly normal. It's only a touch of culture shock, and seemingly a mild case at that. After all, in between the near hysterical breakdowns and sleepless nights, I'm having a ball. And I haven't lost my sense of humour completely. Only this morning I cracked a rather good joke. The fish loved it.