Ambient light crawls through the bedroom blinds onto my closed eyelids and signals my body to spring into action. I reach for the nearby digital brick and tap the sleeping screen to see the time, wagering that it's 6am.
But I'm two hours off the mark.
Don't you get jetlagged?
My wife's high school friend asked me this past weekend. Given an exhausting work travel schedule this year — 15 countries — combined with toddler sleep training, I jokingly replied with a partial truth: I'm always jetlagged.
With restless body and slowly churning mind, I wonder which timezone I'm in this morning.