It’s that special time of year again when we collectively pretend that changing the clocks by one hour is no big deal, even though our bodies clearly disagree.
Two weeks ago, I finally reset the clock in the bathroom to the correct time. When HHH saw the clock, he asked where it hung. On the bathroom wall above the mirror from the day I moved into Winterpast in 2020, the clock has been right only 1/2 the year ever since. To avoid ladder time, it was easier that way. This year I decided to fix the time. Silly, because now I need to get out the ladder and change it again.
This morning, we awoke at what felt like a very reasonable 5 am. But no, according to the clock, it was 4 am. The dogs are confused, and HHH is a little grumpy about the entire situation. I’m so awake, I’m considering some yard work.
Yesterday, we were dressed and ready for church by 9:30. I repeat: Ready. For. Church. At 9:30, a full hour before our usual arrival time. The pastor probably thought we were trying to get extra credit.
Last night, as I sat watching the clock crawl toward bedtime, I had plenty of time to reflect on life’s big questions, such as…
- Why do we still do this?
- Who decided humans need to “save daylight”?
- Why does my body think it’s midnight when it’s only lunchtime?
Change is never easy — especially the two times a year when we have to convince ourselves that 4 am is the new 5 am and that this somehow “saves” something. Personally, I’d like to file a formal complaint with whoever’s in charge of time itself.
Please.
Make.
It.
Stop.
Until then, I’ll sip my steaming coffee and pretend I’m well-rested. My internal clock will eventually reset to the new normal.
Happy Fall Back!!! May your coffee be strong and your clocks set to the correct time, … until next spring.
