What Time Is It? It's !%#&?!
God did not make clocks. God did not make time zones. God made even less the twice a year hour changes. "Fall back" and "spring forward" were never meant to describe the changes on the hour hand of the clock face. They have now become two of the vilest phrases in the English language.
This past night we were supposed the move the clocks back one hour and gain some sleep, besides ruining our circadian rhythm and having nightfall cut off our afternoon plans earlier than usual. Early this morning my husband had planned to go fishing, and had to get up at 4:15 by the new hour. Accordingly, when I went to bed after he did, I adjusted the clock radio, setting it one hour back and setting the alarm. Instead of 00:15 it now read 23:15.
Our clock radio is at least ten or fifteen years old, and is a similar model to one we had before. It is not connected to any form of internet, only the radio waves, and does not change the hour automatically like computers or smartphones. Call it ancient, but it does the job. Which is why I had to change the hour manually when I went to bed. A little before the alarm went off at 4:15, my husband got up to get ready and finish gathering the fishing gear. Since I wasn't interested in listening to music, I shut off the alarm and changed it to 9:00 by using two fingers simultaneously on two buttons. It has been a daily habit to do so ever since we've had that clock radio. My fingers automatically find the correct buttons and press until the desired hour comes up.
I suppose I fell back to sleep while my husband was getting ready, because the next thing I remember, it was 5:53. He had planned to meet his fishing buddy at 4:45. I thought he must have been flummoxed by the change in the hour and thought it was much earlier than it really was. His friend had probably gotten tired of waiting and left on his own. Without being able to explain (my thinking is not logical at five in the morning), I just told him he was very late. He scampered out of the house, and I gradually went back to sleep, thinking he did meet up with his friend since he didn't returned home. Still, I couldn't understand how he had waited over an hour to leave. He never does. Damned hour change.
Just before nine o'clock, the radio turns on. (I keep the clock a few minutes fast. That facilitates getting used to being awake and lowers the use of swear words.) Funny. Today was supposed to be sunny, but the room is dark, as if the hour hadn't changed. As the radio station chimes in the hour, the announcer mentions, "Son as oito." (It's eight o'clock.) I'm suddenly wide awake and I look at the clock. 9:00. Black magic.
I changed the hour last night. It's a twenty-four hour clock, so from 00:15 I changed it to 23:15. This morning I saw the clock read 4:15 when my husband was rummaging for clothes. I also saw it later read 5:53 when he left. There was no way I changed the hour in my sleep. While my fingers reach for the correct buttons automatically to change the alarm, to change the hour I have to stop and think. The hobgoblin that installed itself in my old clock must be laughing its head off at me.
I've been thinking about it since I got up, but I still can't find a reasonable explanation for what happened. That hobgoblin is in serious trouble if I see its face.
This past night we were supposed the move the clocks back one hour and gain some sleep, besides ruining our circadian rhythm and having nightfall cut off our afternoon plans earlier than usual. Early this morning my husband had planned to go fishing, and had to get up at 4:15 by the new hour. Accordingly, when I went to bed after he did, I adjusted the clock radio, setting it one hour back and setting the alarm. Instead of 00:15 it now read 23:15.
Our clock radio is at least ten or fifteen years old, and is a similar model to one we had before. It is not connected to any form of internet, only the radio waves, and does not change the hour automatically like computers or smartphones. Call it ancient, but it does the job. Which is why I had to change the hour manually when I went to bed. A little before the alarm went off at 4:15, my husband got up to get ready and finish gathering the fishing gear. Since I wasn't interested in listening to music, I shut off the alarm and changed it to 9:00 by using two fingers simultaneously on two buttons. It has been a daily habit to do so ever since we've had that clock radio. My fingers automatically find the correct buttons and press until the desired hour comes up.
I suppose I fell back to sleep while my husband was getting ready, because the next thing I remember, it was 5:53. He had planned to meet his fishing buddy at 4:45. I thought he must have been flummoxed by the change in the hour and thought it was much earlier than it really was. His friend had probably gotten tired of waiting and left on his own. Without being able to explain (my thinking is not logical at five in the morning), I just told him he was very late. He scampered out of the house, and I gradually went back to sleep, thinking he did meet up with his friend since he didn't returned home. Still, I couldn't understand how he had waited over an hour to leave. He never does. Damned hour change.
Just before nine o'clock, the radio turns on. (I keep the clock a few minutes fast. That facilitates getting used to being awake and lowers the use of swear words.) Funny. Today was supposed to be sunny, but the room is dark, as if the hour hadn't changed. As the radio station chimes in the hour, the announcer mentions, "Son as oito." (It's eight o'clock.) I'm suddenly wide awake and I look at the clock. 9:00. Black magic.
I changed the hour last night. It's a twenty-four hour clock, so from 00:15 I changed it to 23:15. This morning I saw the clock read 4:15 when my husband was rummaging for clothes. I also saw it later read 5:53 when he left. There was no way I changed the hour in my sleep. While my fingers reach for the correct buttons automatically to change the alarm, to change the hour I have to stop and think. The hobgoblin that installed itself in my old clock must be laughing its head off at me.
I've been thinking about it since I got up, but I still can't find a reasonable explanation for what happened. That hobgoblin is in serious trouble if I see its face.
I love this day. I don't change the clocks until 5 pm old time so I am given an extra hour in the day. I can say, "It's still early." Rick is just shaking his head but he's humoring me. I also love this blog.
ReplyDeleteThanks! I tend to like the extra hour to sleep (when I was younger I liked it to go out on the town a little bit longer), but now it's more of a nuisance to change the hour and slowly become accustomed to the new one. Whatever happened to getting up with the sun and going to bed with the chickens?
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