Who would think setting the clock back one hour would make so much difference?
I woke up Sunday morning and looked at my bedside clock and noted the 4:30 am and groaned because my clock should have been saying 5:30 am. That’s not unusual, as I usually wake up at 5:30 in the morning. Yet, it’s not actually 5:30 am. We all know it’s really 4:30 am because the powers that be have messed with me and say it’s time for DST.
Waking up at 4:30 am has a different association than 5:30 am. Even though it’s only an hour difference 4:30 am is more like “Are you kidding? It’s only 4:30 in the morning; go back to sleep because it’s the middle of the night.” On the other hand, 5:30 in the morning holds the promise of a new day.
For some reason my body is wired to get up at 5:30 am and nothing is going to tell it differently. My body doesn’t have a weekend snooze alarm. Forget the stereotype of a teenager wanting to sleep in until noon. That’s not me. I like the quietness of the morning. For one reason, it’s because my parents are not morning people. They both come into their work zone around 7 o’clock at night and keep going until about two in the morning. Getting up in the morning means I have the place to myself. Yet, this 4:30 am wake up is way too early to enjoy any possible promise the day might have. Extreme darkness in the morning can crimp any good mood. By the time my body gets used to the time difference it’s time to switch again. Death to DST.
DST–Daylight Savings Time–is a robber of daylight. It snatches the daylight that we enjoyed so much in summer, that seemingly lasted until 8 o’clock in the evening even up to last week, and stores it away in a giant glass jar. DST corks away the daylight until the jar becomes so full it starts pushes the cork up, up, up and pops away. The daylight finally free once more, scampers away and chases away the winteriness, and lovely days with blue skies appear, and hints of warmth and a renewing of the world comes with spring and Standard time lives among us once more The end.
That’s is my little fable of how DST and Standard time came into existence. I’m thinking someone must have had some sort of deluded reason for the nonsense of taking an hour of our life away for a good chunk of the year. This is what I dislike about DST:
- Remembering to set the clock back. If this is not communicated properly then the clocks get set back two hours. Two years ago Dad set the clocks back one hour before he went to bed. Having stayed up late to meet a deadline, he remembered that at 2 am the time would change, so he changed the time right then. Mom working on her own deadline, set the clocks back another hour thinking Dad had forgotten to do so, being so busy with his deadline. Unfortunately, this time setting took place during a time when my parents actually were in agreement about which church to attend, meaning we were going to most services, instead of the obligatory Easter Lily and Poinsettia services. Arriving two hours before church started meant we were there so early that my parents could do one of two things: a)admit their mistake and feel really dumb or b)graciously help out by making coffee, folding the bulletins, and attend Sunday School, things they didn’t usually do. They chose B and out of embarrassment did not go to church for a while after that. My parents may not attend church regularly, but both being raised as good Presbyterians they know their bible and they do like a stimulating discussion. I’m sure they made an impression on the unsuspecting class and teacher, which is why we still get mailed a church newsletter though we haven’t attended that church for at least two moves.
- My brain and body function on different operating systems for at least a month until I get used to the time change. My body senses it’s dark and wants to go to bed at 8 o’clock and my brain says, “Yo, wait a minute-we’ve got some time yet tonight.” I feel a bit cobwebby around the edges until a compromise is met. So I’m tired, really tired for the first week, which is why I don’t think I’ll be hitting my word count tonight.
- I think it’s some kind of subversive plot. All this stuff about it’s better for the farmers doesn’t make sense. Does the cow really care about what time it is? When a cow is hungry it’s going to let the farmer know, and if the farmer thinks he’s gained an hour of sleeping he’s kidding himself because the cow is now mooing to be milked an hour earlier as well. Who really wants that extra hour? Someone is using it somehow.
- I really, really, really don’t like going to school in the dark and coming home in the dark. I am not a coal miner. I do so much better functioning in the daylight. Getting up at 5:30 am means by the time I am getting ready to go out the door at 6:30 am to get to school by 6:50 am in time for my Early Bird class at 7:00, the sky has slid from indigo blue to rosy shades of morning pastels. It’s a cheery way to start the day. BUT, getting up at 4:30 am, because that’s what I’m really doing, means it’s DARK when I leave the house at 5:30 am, because though the clock says 6:30 am, it just plain isn’t. Again reverse it for coming home. I get home at 4:30 pm and Standard time gives me that little bit of warm afternoon sun that slips into evening shadows. DST drops the evening curtain with a bang: show’s over folks. Tune in tomorrow. Don’t like DST. Don’t like DST. Don’t like DST. I don’t like DST so much that for my persuasive paper in English I am writing why DST should be abolished. I mean it. Death to DST.
- Fall Back from DST (tvaraj.wordpress.com)
- If Only My Cats Understood The End of DST (nancymn.wordpress.com)
- How smart meters can fix the DST time ward (smartgridwatch.wordpress.com)
- Daylight Saving Time: Make it nice (proflowers.com)
How do other people manage to do this novel write thing? I’m overwhelmed about this NaNoWriMo writing extravaganza and I don’t have a complicated life. I have no sports that require practices. I have no clubs that require attending and participating. I have no real chores. I have no current relationships that need nurturing, even though I spend a fair amount of time day dreaming about the one I would like to have with Eddie. I have no after-school jobs, except occasionally babysitting. Even without all those extras I feel overwhelmed and underqualified for taking on this commitment. My main time consumer is homework. Oh, yes do I have homework. Probably more than what most sophoniors have. That’s no typo. I am a hybrid of sophomore and junior.
Because of our moving around I got paranoid I would enter high school behind in class credits and enrolled in several on-line courses to store up class course credits as insurance and ended up with an abundance of credits by the time I entered 10th grade. Working overtime in classwork is now a habit, and maybe, just maybe I will be able to graduate early. Age-wise, I am a sophomore, although credit-wise, I am moving closer to becoming a senior semester by semester. I am smack dab between 15 and 16. I am in the process of earning my state-required driving hours. That is a whole entry unto itself.
The number thing comes down to incorporating homework with this NaNoWriMo commitment. Okay, enough with the NaNoWriMo already. I keep wanting to break out in Robin Williams’ “Nanu Nanu” from the longtime ago show of “Mork and Mindy.” I also, think about the lyric line, “Na na na na, na na na na, Hey Hey goodbye,” which I remember from Remember the Titans. Saying goodbye. It’s hard to say goodbye. I’ve done it far too many times. That’s going in a direction I don’t want to go in, so that’s a good place to end for the night.