Why I Don't Like Daylight Savings Time

   FINALLY  I'm back...to blog-life that is. I wish I had a good reason for not posting--like I got the chance to fly to Europe for free--but honestly, I just haven't had much inspiration to write. 

Lame reason, I know.

   But as we turned the clocks forward an hour this past weekend, I got thinking about some mishaps that have happened with this simple change, and thought I'd share them with you. Whether it's the "Fall-back" or "Spring-forward" switch, I think Daylight Savings Time causes more stress than it's worth.

   You'd think it wouldn't be that difficult to perform such a minor adjustment, but I've experienced (and heard) enough bloopers about it that I'm all for just doing away with the idea altogether.

   Last year, I wasn’t sure if my Stone-Age phone automatically switched the time or not, so to be on the safe side, I carefully turned my bedroom clock back and set the annoying alarm on that. But I got thrown off because it was 20 minutes fast, along with the recent time change, so instead of setting it for 6:45am (we had to sing at church) I set it for 5:25. When it went off in the morning, I didn’t feel very refreshed even though I thought I’d gotten an extra hour of sleep. I dragged myself downstairs to eat breakfast, and because my dad had forgotten to change the kitchen clock the night before, I figured it was the right time to be up. Everything seemed so dark and dead quiet though. Barely able to keep my eyes open, I hiked back upstairs to get dressed in my cold room and get the day started. As I glanced quickly at my phone, I was shocked to see it read 5:45. I checked my computer and it said the same thing. And then I realized my goof-up and practically yelled, "Oh for Pete's sake...it is WAY too early to be up!" I climbed right back into bed and slept for another hour. So I think I got that extra hour of sleep after all, but man, too much drama for early morning.

   

   My other episode wasn’t really a mistake of turning the clocks back or forward…more like a pathetic sleepover “gone wrong”. I was 10 years old and probably the most absurd child ever. I didn’t like going to bed late. And by late, I mean 9:00. I liked to get ten or eleven hours of sleep every night, no matter what the occasion, and would actually beg to leave a party so I could get to bed on time. Definitely abnormal. Anyway, sleepovers were no exception to my rule. Don’t get me wrong, I loved them, but only as long as we were in bed by 9:00 and could get plenty of rest. So when I invited my best friend, Ellen, to stay over on a Saturday night, I had our night all planned out…centered around how much sleep we could get. I figured if we started a movie at 6:30pm, it would be done by 8:30 at the latest, then we could talk in bed for 20 minutes, and that left 10 minutes of actually getting to sleep. Then we could sleep in till 8 and we’d be all set! Everything went according to schedule, and we finished the movie at 8:20. Perfect. 

   
   Then my dad had to go and spoil it. 

    I heard him say in the other room “Ok, I’m change these clocks forward an hour now. So, it’s actually 9:30, ok?”  What!! No! I had completely forgotten about Daylight Savings Time! I was distraught…everything was thrown off, 9:30 was way too late, now we couldn’t stay up for a bit and talk, and I was only gonna get nine hours of sleep! You can just imagine my frustration and disappointment. But after a little bit, I did finally reconcile myself to getting a little less shut-eye (after all, we could sleep in a bit more) and we still got to talk and have fun. (Although I’m sure Ellen was a little shocked at my reaction and at the fact that I actually wanted to *cough* sleep at a sleepover).

   

   My dad’s episode of the time change tops all though. In his early twenties, he lived in Texas by himself for a short period doing some service work. When Daylight Savings Time rolled around, he did remember to change his clock (he only had one)…but just the wrong way.  So the entire day he went two hours behind everything. When you don’t have many friends, hardly any appointments, and only one clock, apparently it’s easy to do. Except for Mass. This is the best part…since it was Sunday, he planned to go to the 9am service at the local church. Or what he thought was the 9am. Turns out, it was actually the 11am!  But that didn't even set him straight. It was only until he went to see a movie that night and was told he was in time for the second showing when he asked for a ticket to the first. And that's when he found out that it was 10:30 instead of 8:30.  He hasn’t done anything like that since, but I always double (and triple) check the house clocks just in case.

   Well unfortunately, I don't think it would do anything to boycott this nation-wide custom of changing the clocks. But hey, if you're not sure which way to turn them, do what I do: use it as an excuse to be on the safe side and go to bed an hour early either way. :)