Since I don’t have an iPhone I was glad when my school teacher daughter called on Saturday evening to tell us that the clocks sprung forward that night. I had to check my American calendars to make sure because at mass the priest didn’t remind us, there was nothing in the bulletin and my English datebook said March 31st, which is Easter!
I was flummoxed all day Sunday, up an hour late, disorientated by the time changes with each room I went into until I remembered to manually move the hands forward an hour and thrown off by my husband’s dallying watch.
Then this morning it hit me that I have two potential interviews with people in England and because their clocks haven’t changed yet my time slot and theirs is off by sixty minutes.
More convolutions which I still haven’t sorted out.
This is one of those weeks when my usually calm days have events pencilled in. There are more waiting in the wings to burst unbidden on stage, I feel it in my bones.
Perhaps all this flap is due to the pending wedding…and the clocks springing forward.
Why can’t the impatient time zones around the world wait a month for nature to take its course and let the days lengthen all on their own?
What difference does an hour make in a land where daylight stretches from 8 hours to 17 hours over the course of a few weeks?
Ho hum. My body will take some acclimation.
I was up an hour later this morning and now it’s already afternoon!