I’m flying home today. (Leaving home to go home - don’t get me started on the weirdness of this.) I’ve got a punishment to come when I get there. A caning, I guess. Every time I think that the physical part of a punishment is no big deal - after all, we’re all grown-ups with great capacity to withstand pain, so it’s the psychological aspect of being in trouble that should feel the worst - well, it just doesn’t work like that after all. I’m going to get thrashed, and my insides are all awobble.*

I hope it’s not *right* after I get home, though. I won’t get there much before 11pm, which will be 1am on my sleepy body clock. Much as I hate waiting for a punishment, I’d rather not be exhausted when it happens.

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* Is that a word?

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