The Times They Are A-Changin’

As much as I’m nervous on jets I’m much worse with time jet lag. I’m mentioning this today because yesterday my roommate found a box of Cheerios in the freezer.

Let me explain. So far in 2015 I’ve gone through twenty time changes. In fact, since May 14 I’ve gone from…

  • MST to PST
  • PST to MST
  • MST to PST
  • PST to CST (China Standard Time)
  • CST to PST
  • PST to MST
  • MST to EST
  • EST to CST (Central Standard Time)
  • CST to EST
  • EST to CST
  • CST to MST

Twenty-one days, twenty time changes. Granted, most of them weren’t significant in and of themselves (I can’t imagine the hour-long crossover from EST to CST last Monday had any effect whatsoever on my internal clock), but it’s the cumulative effect that’s resulted in me, for instance, pouring myself a bowl of Cheerios, then putting the box in the freezer. In my defense, I did that in the midst of thirty-nine straight hours of being awake. Time changes, like bad flights, are occupational hazards, and sometimes I negotiate them better than others. Last fall I was on Middle East time within two days. This winter, on the other hand, I never fully adjusted. I watched the Super Bowl in Dubai not because I woke up–it started at three o’clock in the morning–but because I didn’t fall asleep in the first place.

Tips for beating jet lag are myriad, yet so far I haven’t found one that works for me. The fact that I can’t sleep on planes doesn’t help; the only time I’ve actually slept on a plane was also the only time I’ve taken an actual sleeping pill, and the result was me throwing up in a Sao Paulo churrascaria and a solemn vow never to take a sleeping pill again. Ultimately, I’ve accepted that this fuzzy feeling’s going to linger as long as I keep doing what I do. I’m getting more used to it; I’ve also gotten better at functioning on less sleep, not to mention waking up before my alarm (my new goal, which I’ll begin enacting once I’m back from England July 2, is morning workouts; specifically, I want to join the Calgary chapter of the November Project). It’s become my new normal, which bodes well for those of you who like hearing stories about cereal boxes in freezers. There are likely more to come.


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