Too Tired To Think of a Title

Daylight Saving Time started. So exciting. Or it would be if I hadn’t squandered mine. Yesterday Squish woke up at an ungodly hour, and I made the deal. If dear husband would get up with him, I would let him have Daylight Saving Sunday to sleep in. He could enjoy that extra hour. That’s right. I made a deal with the devil, and I am paying. (to my husband, so the rest of you look away, please: No, sweetie. You’re not the devil. The devil is who must have made me so sleepy yesterday that I was willing to tinkle away this once-a-year gift. Go back to sleep. I love you!) Okay, you guys can read again.

So here I sit at this early hour, hanging out with Squish and waiting for my coffee to brew. Speaking of hours, can you tell me what hour it actually is? I have no idea if my husband messed with any of the clocks yet, so I couldn’t tell you the time. And waking him up to ask him would kind of violate the sanctity of Sleeping In Sunday. I could look at my computer’s time stamp, but I can’t remember if we ever downloaded the patch for the new DST. Oh, well. Life is an adventure, and I do like living on the edge.

I could listen to the radio to see what time is it. I could. Except that all the stations I can tolerate are national once. Their time-check’s involve the generic phrase “It’s now twenty past the hour.” Darn you, NPR, for your inability to commit! Which hour? Do  I just get to pick one? Actually, I might be okay with that one. I pick 4am. That way I get to whine about how early I was up but have lots of extra time.

Phoebe is no help. She has a stomach clock with atomic accuracy. Within 10 minutes of feeding time, she is dancing and yipping, waiting to be fed. Either way, she should have sounded off by now. Apparently a day of holding the couch down has left her so exhausted she doesn’t care about food.

Not being blessed with any kind of linear thought process,when it’s left up to me, I am not sure when to get everyone up. Yes, I am that stupid. An hour extra. Does that mean that I need to get everyone up earlier? If I mess it up, will we get to church as everyone else is leaving? Or will we be there so early that we’re alone in the parking lot? Maybe I should aim for the middle to cut our losses.

I give up. This makes my head hurt. I’m going back to bed.Wake me in the spring.

Sleep well, little man. You don't have to wake for an hour. Or two hours? Or should you already be up? Poop. We're going to be late. Or really early. I can't win.

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10 thoughts on “Too Tired To Think of a Title

  1. First of all, you know better than that–making deals with the devil. Second of all, brillarious as always! Third of all, I really don’t know what time it is. I woke up and my phone read 6:12. 10 minutes later my phone read 7:22. What the? That isn’t even a fall back change!! Did I time travel during those 10 minutes? If so, it must have been important so why don’t I remember? WHAT IS GOING ON?!?!?!

  2. I’m glad someone has finally called attention to a situation important enought o divert people’s attention from THE Situation. Saying “Nine minutes past the hour” doesn’t help anyone, except the station because then they can use secondhand clocks with only one hand and it won’t matter. You can tell my my comment that this entire DST or non DST thing (I still don’t know which it is) has me rattled.

  3. Lucky it is sunday.. and I think my computer time is wrong, you would think that a computer could change its own time actually I should not have to dowload ANYTHING!…Is it lunchtime yet? c

  4. I went to bed without changing anything. I got up at my regular time, but had left a note at my alarm clock the previous night that said turn me back. In my sleep induced fog, it felt wonderful to sleep an extra hour.

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