I took advantage of the extra hour we have today to do some of the less inviting tasks around here...things I could not fathom wasting part of a decent day doing. I even roped the rest of the house in to help since they each had an extra hour as well. I posted a chore sign up sheet. It was ridiculous. I regret offering compensation for participation. The husband and I took apart two of the bathroom sinks and dealt with whatever nonsense was keeping them from draining properly. (Do you like how I sugar coated that one for you?) I also went into overachieving mode to scrub the toilet bowls readying them for their blue tablet drop ins. Yes, we are officially that fancy!
I wish we could just gain an hour once a week or so. Imagine the possibilities, you're reading a great book curled up on the couch, knowing full well there is an hour's worth of housework that needs to be done (yeah, I know it's never just an hour, but we are dealing with phony pretendy time here). You set the stop watch for sixty minutes, do a little vacuum and dust combo, then boom, back to the couch like the horror never happened. Sure, the potential is there for a situation to arise like any time I would get a bonus in my paycheck. I would spend that bonus more than once, rationalizing that I was still ahead of the game...with a new couch! So maybe cleaning would really eat up two hours, but only one of them truly ripped out of my actual twenty-four hour day. I had so much extra time on my hands that I did tomorrow's laundry job.
I cannot seem to get my meals and snacking to work out quite right though on my jet lag day. I don't understand what the problem is, as I essentially woke up at the same time as yesterday, which is an hour later than a week day. I ate breakfast and then felt like I was playing catch up. I normally have a snack about 2 1/2 hours after breakfast. That duration of time should not have been influenced by the time on the clock. No, it shouldn't have. I think things went off track when my quest to clean out the refrigerator yielded a package of latkes my mother had made. I assure you they were taking up far too much room and needed to be cooked immediately. I thought I was making them for lunch, but as I summoned the children I was informed that it was only 11:30. I don't know why their bodies were not on high alert that it was really 12:30. They came around a little later for their latkes and lunch, but I never actually ate lunch, just a latke snack...and then another round of latkes (still snacking I say).
When I realized I hadn't rounded out my lunch with the rest of the food groups, I had some candy. Now it is 4:30, and my body thinks it's 5:30, and I have to be the bearer of bad news to tell myself that neither one of those times is dinner time. Humpf. This should serve as a warning to me to never travel outside of my time zone.