I do this every spring. I cannot get used to moving clocks forward.
At 6 p.m., we should be having dinner, but it’s so light out. I’m enjoying being outside. So then we’re eating at 7 p.m. the night of the time change, but, in reality, our internal clocks think it is 6 p.m., which is when we normally eat dinner.
Confused yet? Yeah, my body is, too.
Oh man! It’s already 9 p.m., and we’re still reading to the kids. But it feels like 8 p.m.
Never miss a local story.
Oh. My. Goodness!
The alarm can’t be going off yet. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
My body thinks it is 5:30 a.m. Not 6:30 a.m.
I do not want to start my day at this awful early hour.
I admit that I end up loving this spring forward time, eventually.
But the first week is rough.
Like I said. Is that new time? Old Time?
Oh good! Happy hour is earlier. I’ll just drink a glass of wine and quit whining.
Who is with me?