I’ve been through the throes of jet lag I don’t know how many times. It typically runs a cycle that feels a great deal like how Bruce Willis lost his mind in 12 Monkeys due to existing in two different periods of time. There was only one instance of time from mid-2009 to mid-2010 that I was able to achieve this bizarre, zen-like state of AntiTime™ wherein whether I popped in to California, Spain, Ivory Coast, Kenya, France, or South Africa, I experienced no jet lag and was immediately on the time zone of wherever I landed. This über state, along with vacuum sealed peanuts was one of the perks of flying a great deal.
I believe that having a few less years on the mortality end game also contributed to this as since then, I’ve never experienced AntiTime™ and two years ago, after returning to California from Spain, I work up so early that I went in to work at 7AM.
For the holidays this year, I went to California from Spain and upon arrival, not only had a cold from the flight unleashed upon me (which I made sure to spread to everyone I came in contact with), but also had the typical form of jetlag wherein I woke up far too early. On returning to Spain, something strange has happened.
I’m not waking up at the rosy butthole side of dawn. I’m actually sleeping quite normally, but am waking up at strange, late hours, such as today, when I woke up at nearly 11AM after going to bed that the not terribly insane hour of 1AM. It’s like a jet lag that one would have if one were to be 22 and partying, which I’m most assuredly not, given that I’m writing like an insane person right now to get the Priorat guide out the door.
All that can be said is temporal issues are strange, perplexing, and you are indeed their bitch.