Time may change me, but I can’t change time

Time has changed something significantly.  And I think it’s me.

When I was younger, the day designated as “fall back day” (at least that’s how I grew up remembering the time changes in Daylight Savings Time – “fall back and spring forward”)  never seemed to affect me much. 

Who wouldn’t want an extra hour to sleep in on a Sunday morning??  That meant you could stay out later on Saturday night!

But the older I get, the more my sleep rhythm (or sometimes lack of one) doesn’t want anyone messing it up, whether we’re saving an hour or not.  Saturday night I had difficulty getting to nighty-night land, but chocked it up to the reality that when I turned in at 11:45 p.m., my internal clock said it was 10:45 p.m.  So no wonder, my mind told me, you’re not really sleepy yet.  Well, a few tosses this way, a few turns that way, and I probably didn’t nod off until well after 1 a.m. (which my brain said was midnight).

It was relaxing and restful to wake up Sunday morning and realize I could take my own sweet time getting ready for church.  No hustling and bustling, in and out of the shower in a flash, trying to straighten the hair when it’s still a little damp, grabbing a bowl of cereal and a few sips of hot tea, and rushing out the door to arrive at worship on time.  Instead we had so much extra time that hubby and I ate a hot, cooked breakfast, something we haven’t done in awhile and we arrived at church with minutes to spare.

All day though, I felt like I couldn’t stay still; I wasn’t content to stay home like usual on a Sunday afternoon, reading the paper and working a crossword puzzle, maybe watching a little football with hubby.  I didn’t even want to sit still long enough to write an entry for this blog!

Instead, my body and mind wanted to launch into hyper-drive. Go to the grocery store and have a shopping marathon there, yes!  Put all the groceries away and want to climb back in the car to go somewhere else?  Yes!  So hubby and I headed to a local mall, where we thought we’d grab a bite to eat for dinner and use a gift card we’d been given for Olive Garden.  However, waiting for a table was involved.

Did we want to clutch that vibrating device that informs you that you are next to be seated?  No!  We didn’t want to wait.  I can’t explain why, I just felt like I was stuck in fifth gear – overdrive – for some reason, which meant no waiting!

At another restaurant, we were seated immediately and ordered from the menu in no time flat.  An hour later, we possessed full bellies and satisfied appetites, but I still wasn’t ready to head home.  Instead, we did a bit of Christmas shopping.  Kids, wait until you see the suprises in your Christmas stockings this year!

Spinning my wheels all day like a hamster on his exercise spinner,  I thought I’d be tired and definitely ready for the comfort of my bed.  Hubby, who never has problems falling asleep, started nodding off on the couch long before bedtime, most likely due to the fact I ran his legs off all day.

He actually turned in early.  Sometimes I really envy his ability to fall asleep so easily.  I stayed up, watched TV, checked out the news, and then decided I really should try to catch some zzz’s myself.

Didn’t happen, at least not for a while.  More tossing and turning ensued.  I stared at my clock, and realized it did not display the correct time.  Got up, changed it, then accidently hit the button that turns on the radio, scared hubby who mumbled, blinked at me, then rolled over, and promptly returned to dreamland. I think I may have finally succumbed to the Sandman around 2 a.m.

Of course, I had to work today, so I needed to arise early.  My morning was screwy.  A series of mishaps occurred to threaten my arriving at work on time.  There was spilling of liquids, wrinkled shirt to be pressed, dropping of lunch items, flat iron that got plugged in but not turned on.  Just stupid little but highly irritating things.

As I scurried into my office, I tripped and almost fell on the concrete walkway, and of course, that meant spilling my travel mug of hot tea.  When I placed my lunch in our office refrigerator, I dropped it (again!) and knocked over several things already on the shelf – made enough noise that my boss probably wondered what the heck I was doing in the kitchen.

Walking to my desk, I noticed my wall clock needed the hour turned back, and of course, as I stretched to reach and take it off the wall, the picture hanger, which holds the clock in place, fell off the wall and behind my desk, back in the no-man’s land where the convolution of computer, printer, telephone, and electrical cords all weave in and out in a huge mess of cable.

Couldn’t reach it, so I crawled on my hands and knees and tried to inch it out with my ruler (no pun intended).  I did have the presence of mind to lock the door which I was crawling in front of because I had visions of my co-worker arriving and smacking me silly with the door as she opened it.

So here’s the deal.  When the time changes, so do I.  I become a little off-kilter, out of balance, and it takes a few days for my body and mind to right itself.  I blame this on aging and not being able to adjust to changes as easily as I once did with a younger body and mind.

As I was bemoaning to myself and getting cranky, this thought occurred to me:  no matter how bad your day is, someone else out there in that huge, wide world is having a worse day than you.  My days of feeling “a little off” are nothing compared to the sufferings others have.

My “bad day” today was like a quote I once read, “You know it’s a bad day when you put your bra on backwards and it fits better.”   A little odd, funny even, but not earth-shattering.

I don’t pay too much attention to motivational speakers, but one of them wrote this: “The only difference between a good day and a bad day is your attitude.” (Dennis S. Brown)  Well, Mr. Brown, I do agree with you.  I realized this morning after I loudly said “I quit!” and my boss looked at me with shock (I meant I surrendered hopes of having a good day) that I needed an attitude adjustment.

And shortly after giving myself an attitude check, I received an email from a young friend who works with me.  He was a couple blocks from home on his way to meet with me at work, when another driver ran a red light and plowed into him.  Thankfully, he wasn’t hurt, but his car was; he had to walk home.  It’s safe to say my friend was having a bad day, but that’s life, no matter how old or young you are.

“There are good days and there are bad days, and this is one of them.” — Lawrence Welk, Musician and Television Host

And tomorrow, God willing, will be another “one of those days.”

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