growing up means finally appreciating daylight savings time
at work on friday, jc and i were discussing daylight savings time. he posited that it is simply a conspiracy on the part of morning people. i heartily agreed, thinking ‘i hate those people!’
when i was in college, daylight savings time meant two things: 1. that night, i got an extra blissful hour to study/party/sleep/all three, and 2. the sun was far too bright on my head in the mornings. and by mornings i mean 10:45, when i would roll out of bed and stumble to class. so you see, daylight savings time was always a mixed blessing.
so i grumbled about the advent of ‘fall-back’. and then, monday morning rolls around. and at seven thirty a.m., before my alarm goes off, i pop up in bed, convinced i’m late-as-hell. when i look at my clock and realize i have another half-hour of sleep, i’m delighted … only to wake up again every five minutes, convinced i was late-as-hell. i’d fall back asleep and have two minute dreams that i was not only late-as-hell, but naked as a jaybird.
but then, when i finally woke up at eight, i realized i wasn’t nearly as tired as i’ve been ever since this whole adult thing reared its head. my body naturally wakes up at eight thirty a.m. – just enough time to slam some clothes on, chug a slim-fast shake and race to the subway. but now, my body’s been tricked into thinking it’s waking up at eight thirty when really, it’s a whole hour early.
the brilliance!
the genius!
the extra twenty minutes of coffee-and-nicotine in the mornings!
the ability to change outfits not once, but twice!
aahh, that blissful extra hour of wakefulness. let’s see how long it lasts.
cheers, k.