Back home or how I didn't cry on the plane when I thought I would

After 3 months I'm back in Barcelona, back home. I've spent too many hours on the plane these last two days. Planes are useful things, I won't deny it, but they are boring as fuck, and really uncomfortable if you're looking forward to get some sleep on them. 

As you might be aware of, yesterday I did this crazy thing in which I changed my whole schedule to European time to avoid jet lag. I'm not sure it worked, but it's 6:25pm and I'm already sleepy as fuck. However, if it didn't work it wasn't my fault, I was supposed to get to sleep as soon as I got on the plane, yet I started talking to the people next to me on the plane (hey, I'm the kind of people who talks to people they don't know, now). Also, they had to serve dinner, so I ended up going to sleep LATE. And I didn't sleep much because, as I said, those seats are uncomfortable as fuck. 

Not sleeping and everything let me lots of time to think (it also means that my thoughts were completely messed up). Before getting on the plane I thought I would cry a lot just before leaving, but I didn't, I guess it was because I know I'll see all this people again, so it was just a farewell. The other thing I realized is that it all has passed so fast, and it kinda feels as if someone else had lived all what I have lived these past months, it's crazy, I know, but I guess this feeling IS because of the lack of sleep.