This is the weekend we change the time, losing an hour so we can get up in the dark and stay up later in daylight. I don’t get it. I want my daylight in the morning hours, not late in the evening when I’m tired and want to go to bed. So, since I live in a state that honors Daylight Savings Time (DST), I change my clocks to go along with everyone else. But I do it MY way.
I change the clocks early on Saturday morning, whether for DST in the spring or Standard Time in the fall. Saturday is a better day for me to fiddle with time, and by Monday morning I’m pretty well adjusted to the new time. When teaching I had to be fully functional on Monday morning when I greeted groggy students.
Saturday works well for me to fiddle with the time now that I’m retired because I don’t usually leave the house on that day, unlike when I worked and had to get all my errands run on the weekend. Yesterday I prepped the soup I would take to church for Lent Soup Lunch after our worship service. I also got to bed on the new time so that I was ready to get up this morning. Well, fairly able, since I had slept my usual 9 hours.
On Monday I will go grocery shopping and run some other errands while everyone else goes back to work. When I worked, and only had the weekends to shop, I would find it annoying that the little old ladies who had all week to shop were in the store, blocking an aisle, on a Saturday. I always thought: when I retire, I will not be in the stores on weekends when working people need the time and space to shop. I’ve kept the resolution. Actually, I prefer to shop on the slowest day of the week, Tuesday, but I have an obligation this week, so Monday will be it. I can go on my own time, after the darkness burns off of the morning.