Jet Lag's Infrequent Glory

One of my colleagues in the string quartet here has an unusual schedule of waking up at 3am every morning.  He then does exercises, takes a bath, practices, and I'm sure does various other things before greeting the day.  (He also doesn't eat until lunch time.)

These days of waking up at jet-lag-o'clock I can sort of see the pleasure.  I didn't get out of bed until 6:30am, but was in some sort of awake state long before that.  And then I exercised and did a Feldenkrais lesson and read some New York Times Op-Ed pieces and listened to some contemporary string quartets.  All this put me in a perfect mood (along with a pot of green tea) to start a newly inspired practice session (with freed hips and new ideas about dramatic articulations) at 10am.  Some days just flow.  Even a visit to the mall this afternoon went smoothly (even enjoyably?) and without any internal breakdowns on my part, something perhaps unprecedented. 

So thank you, jet lag, for this day.  I've been pretty down on you in the past, and maybe some of it wasn't entirely deserved.  Actually I think it was all deserved.  But it does seems proper to balance the karmic scales a little.  I'll give you this one.  And now for another early bedtime.