We’re about to spring ahead and although this means that winter is on it’s way out the door (being obnoxiously slow about it though I’ll have you know) I’m not looking forward to “losing” that hour. Sure, I know moving an hour ahead will give me an extra hour of daylight but this does not seem worth losing an hour of sleep
…or seriously mucking with my internal clock for that matter.
I’ve just managed to find a routine that has me in bed and asleep by midnight. Granted I have the annoying habit of waking up at 4:15 every morning for some unknown reason, but other than this little inconvience I’ve been having some pretty good nights sleep.
When did sleep become so sacred I wonder. When did six solid hours of uninterrupted sleep become a rarity, a treasure sought with such devotion as the Holy Grail? Remember the time when you could pull an all nighter, sometimes two in a row, and function well within the realm of normalcy? Even brag about it? I remember going out partying on a Friday night and then working eight hours the next day frying donuts at the Pic-a-dilly Malt and Donut shop. Then going out again that Saturday night.
All of a sudden I covet naps. And weekends. Any opportunity to crawl under the covers and escape for an hour.
So in order to make the transition to daylight savings for the rest of the week I’m going to start “turning in” ten minutes earlier every evening. Maybe I can trick my body, and more importantly my mind, into believing I’m really just maintaining the status quo.
Oh, who am I kidding, I’ll be discombobulated until summer.