A Little Time TravelAfter spending a week in Spain, today is the first day that I feel I am back in the proper time zone. I left for Spain two Thursdays ago. With the eight and a half hour flight, I jumped ahead seven hours. When I arrived, it was the middle of the afternoon on Friday. Upon arrival at our hotel, I instantly feel asleep for about two, maybe two and a half hours. I'm not a good plane sleeper regardless of the flight time or length.
That weekend, Spain turned their clocks back an hour. We gained an hour of sleep, but I'm not sure made an impact. At the time I still hadn't fully adjusted to the time shift.
Over the course of the week, we spent time in both Barcelona and Madrid. We rode the high speed train between the two cities. I even watched the 2011 Footloose remake in Spanish during one trip. Feel free to shout, bailar! at any time.
By the time we departed for home, I adjusted to the time on the Iberian Peninsula. We hopped on the plane and returned home. The return flight was slightly over nine hours. Again, I couldn't sleep. We gained time on our journey home. On Saturday, I was close to useless. We gained another hour on Sunday. I forgot to change our clocks before going to bed. I started waking up around 4:45 a.m. our time. That's a little early for Saturday, but I knew I hadn't fully adjusted yet. It was at the moment when I realized that the clocks weren't set. It was 3:45 a.m. Somehow I managed to get slightly more than an additional hour of sleep.
I dreaded waking up this morning. It was first day back in the office since our trip. Our staff was busy completing projects in my absence. I wasn't sure how I was going to handle the day. I was amazed that I survived without dragging in the middle of the afternoon.