Jet lag is amazing stuff. It not only messes with your circadian rhythms, but it dinks with your head in other interesting ways, too.
It's four in the morning in New York City. At three, I sat bolt upright in bed (it being eight o'clock, Greenwich Mean Time) ready to not only get up and start the day but ravenously hungry for breakfast.
I also get Breakfast Lag. So, this morning, rather than being a bagel and coffee, the first meal of the day absolutely needed to be a cup (or two or three) of strong, milky tea, and some toasted brown bread with butter and thick-cut orange marmalade.
Happily, I predicted this eventuality occurring--I've been in this position before--and laid in supplies accordingly. (After the last trip to Paris, it took three days to wean myself from croissants and cafe au lait - thank God for Patisserie Claude down the street.)
In another day or two I'll be back to a bagel and a schmear and French-pressed Kenya AA, but this morning, it's Twining's and toast.