The alarm sounds, an annoying sound. It’s meant to be annoying, a cadre of bees ready with a morning aria, their voice as one. They may be the same bees missing from hives across the country, and out of work have volunteered for the job of waking our family.
Today it is Gail they are waking for she is the one that has to be to work first. She slides to the edge of the bed, sits up, and punches the snooze returning to her place alongside me. We drift back to sleep only to be awakened again by the same buzzing sound we heard moments before, and again she repeats the now ritual motion quelling the annoying buzz once more.
A few moments later the incessant buzzing returns. “You’re having trouble getting up today” I say, “well I want you to know that three alarms is my limit. If you lie down again you’ll have to take the day off.” She springs forward and shuts off the alarm, and then mumbles something about changing her starting time at work from nine until ten, springing forward so as to avoid springing forward. Will she adjust, will we adjust, or will we wait impatiently until November when we can fall back?
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I never notice the change, whether forward or back. I must be blessed with the ability to adjust very quickly. Wish we would stay on DST year around. Driving to work in the dark is OK, but I hate going home in the dark at the end of the day.
Adjust, give in to it, go with the flow, this too shall pass. And I just ran out of dumb euphemisms…
The hell with that. I’m for two day work weeks, say noon to three. It solves the problem of driving in the dark.
“There is only one success: to be able to spend your life in your own way, and not to give others absurd maddening claims upon it.” — Christopher Morley