Twice in the last year, I’ve spent three consecutive nights in three different states. On one of those trips, it was even three different timezones in three nights. Maybe a different state every night is no big deal for people in the northeast, what with tiny states like Rhode Island and Delaware and whatnot. But out West, it takes a little more effort.
The most recent three state hop was this summer. I flew from Denver to St. Paul, then a coworker and I drove to a Milwaukee suburb to meet with our clients. We spent two nights in Wisconsin, then drove back to St. Paul. We spent one last night there before flying back to Colorado. So that was Tuesday night in Wisconsin, Wednesday night in Minnesota, and Thursday night in Colorado.
The three timezone hop took place in spring. My wife and I were in a Chicago suburb for a short weekend visit to her parents and cousins for an anniversary celebration. That was a good time. We flew back to Denver, and then the next morning I had to fly to Seattle to be back on-site with my client at the time. So that was Saturday night in Illinois on Central Time, Sunday night in Colorado on Mountain Time, and Monday night in Washington on Pacific Time.
Did that jet-setting around throw me off too much? Not really. Partly it’s because I was never going farther away than the next timezone – skipping one or two timezones is when you really start to feel the lag. And partly it’s because I wasn’t in any one place long enough to really know where I was or what time it was supposed to be. Well, it’s more accurate to say the effects caught up with me later, as they always do.
