Confuzzled

I officially hate the time change. I did not make this decision lightly.  As a normally reasonable person, I decided to give it a week after we "sprang forward".  Just to let myself get used to the idea, before I made up my mind.  The week is up.

After a Herculean effort to develop a decent sleep cycle, I was finally into a good pattern.  My eyes would consistently open around 6am every day, whether the alarm rang or not.  They say this is a good thing, for the body to be awake at the same time every morning.  My brain, on the other hand, tends to sit up, stretch and yawn...and go right back to sleep until around 10 each morning.  But that's another story. 

My body is completely confused now.  It thinks that it is 8pm, when it is actually 11pm.  And when it is 8am, my brain thinks it is 5am.  Don't even get me started on what day it is--my brain keeps insisting that it is Thursday. 

You'd think that all this confusion would equal weight loss.  Maybe I'd forget to eat a couple of meals, or not be as hungry.  Nope.  Instead, my body has decided that it needs to stock up for the winter. I've tried explaining to my tummy that we are working on spring, that winter is over.  My stomach would rather just start preparing for next winter, just in case.

Not sleeping right and not eating right equals one slightly(okay, more than slightly) unhinged woman.  My poor husband has been feeling the brunt of my generalized sense of wrath; how he has survived this past week is a mystery.

Oh, and it's freakin' St. Patrick's Day?  Bloody hell.  Anybody tries to pinch me is going to end up losing an arm.

So yeah, I officially hate the time change.