We hear from the captain at 12:10pm each day. He delivers the ships position, sea conditions, etc. Today he points out the fact that at approximately 2:30pm. we will pass over the Titanic. Why he feels compelled to tell us this, I don’t know. It’s enough for me that the theme song to said movie seems to play endlessly in the elevators and companion-ways….British humor?
The captain is fond of reminding us that we are in the middle of nowhere: something I can glean by simply looking out any porthole.
All of this happens just after the ship’s bell is sounded to mark noon. And noon arrives an hour later every day. The clocks are rolled forward during each night.
I can’t say there is no “jet-lag”, but “liner-lag” would be a better description: slower and more persuasive than the shock of a full six hur change all at once.
Breakfast attendance rolled forward noticeably on a daily basis until, near the end of the crossing, the dining rooms were fullest fifteen minutes before breakfast was over.
As the week progressed, so did the hours at which we took all our meals. First day: breakfast at 8am, lunch at noon, dinner at 7pm. Day 3: breakfast at 9am, lunch at 1pm, dinner at 8pm, until the last day when breakfast became lunch and the restaurants peaked at 9:30pm for dinner. 
Some of the older crowd, no doubt, ate breakfast before they went to bed.
But, there was much more to the crossing than meals. 
The Canyon Ranch Spa operates a terrific facility on board complete with large hydrotherapy pool and several steam rooms. 
The fitness room is a large and as well-equipped as any I’ve seen and, if you choose, three laps around the promenade deck equals 1.1 miles (if you can brave the frequent 50 knot wind speed in your face).
How many can say they have hoofed it across the Atlantic?