Same flight, hours later

I just peeked out the window--pulled up the shade just a crack--and I could see the dark outline of the plane's wing against the fog, which must mean it's starting to get light out. We're flying into morning. I've been tossing & turning for the last few hours. All around me are deep, even breaths and darkness, but I can't quiet my brain. I envy those who've mastered the trick of sleeping sitting up. I alternate between hot & sweaty under the airplane blanket and frigid wherever it doesn't cover me. I can just barely hear the noise from somebody's airplane headphones turned up loud in the row in front of me--the volume has to be full blast to compensate for the roar of the jet and the crappy headphone quality. My right butt-cheek is asleep and I'm going to be a wreck my first day in Sao Paulo.
We left Sunday night, and we'll arrive Tuesday morning. It's true that we're losing eight hours by traveling east, but that's still a pretty gnarly night and day and night again of traveling, even with the catnaps. Adam, now would be a good time for me to subscribe to your crazy sleep experiment--