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The wacky addition and subtraction of jet lag and Daylight Savings Time
The wacky addition and subtraction of jet lag and Daylight Savings Time

The wacky addition and subtraction of jet lag and Daylight Savings Time

Sunday, April 7, 2024

Dear Readers, Forgive me, I've been caught up in a whirlwind of daylight savings, time zone changes and jet lag, not to mention Spring Break…woo!

It’s important now that I explain how I can’t say “Spring Break” without following it immediately with a heartfelt yet sarcastic “Woo!” After spending four of these mid-semester holidays down at South Padre Island in my collegiate youth, it’s simply been infused into my DNA. Spring Break…Woo! But I digress.

Honestly, I can’t even remember if I wrote about this same subject a few weeks ago or way back in October — whatever year that was — but Daylight Savings, am I right? It changes on a different day in the US than it does in Europe, occurring roughly two weeks apart.

Last week — or was it two weeks ago? — I completed my 27-hour journey back to Texas, gaining six hours, only to have Daylight Savings hit me while I was there, losing one hour. Then, after returning via a 30-hour journey, losing five hours, the time changes by another today here in Portugal, losing an hour. So, obviously now I’m six hours ahead of Texas. It’s super easy math, y’all.

When am I? Where time is it? I feel like I’m navigating the very same foggy state of existence as The Narrator in “Fight Club” — lost in a discombobulation of airports, time zones and social unrest. Spoiler alert: His name is Tyler Durden. My name is Stelly Kone.

I’m so tired. All this ping-ponging around the globe truly messes with my dreams too. My most lucid dreams occur right after I’ve been bobbing from one place to the next. No dreams while I’m literally in the clouds, above it all, flying in an actual airplane. Nope. Not at all. There’s no subconscious entertainment happening behind my sleep mask while I’m squished between my tray table and my window headrest there with my shoeless feet rubbed down aggressively with baby wipes so as not to disturb fellow passengers with my piggie fragrance of “Ew de Kellay.” That’s not when I dream.

But afterwards? Oh the things I manifest while I slumber and drool! It’s *almost* like I should write about it or something. I completely empathize with the Mad Hatter and his perpetual tea party as I venture through my sleepy looking glass: We’re all mad here.

But there’s nothing we can do about the changing of the clocks or the passing of time. The only way out is through, so let’s embrace this chaos, keep on dreaming, and gracefully navigate this mad, mad world with humility and kindness.

We can’t be everyone’s cup of tea no matter what time they’re taking it. We can, however, savor the bitter and as well as the sweet as we pilot our life’s journeys. The captain has requested that we fasten our seat belts. There’s turbulence ahead. And likely something worth fighting for. Xoxo,

Kelly Stone is an educator, comedian, mother, and author who loves the heck outta the river. She welcomes e-letters at kellystone.org or kellystonecomedy@gmail. com and adores handwritten notes and postcards via good ol’ snail mail.

San Marcos Record

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