Sunday marked the fourth or fifth anniversary of technology bitch-slapping yet another of my favorite annual pleasures- the end of daylight savings time.
The end of daylight savings time used to be a big day in my year because I wouldn’t set my clocks back the required hour right before going to bed, nor would my anal retentiveness awaken me at 2:00 am to reset my clocks and be painstakingly precise.
Instead, what I would do each year was leave my clocks and my time alone and un-reset until at some point on Sunday when-decided on by me- I would TURN BACK TIME.
That’s right. I could TURN BACK TIME.
It was heady and god-like and fun. I’d leave the clocks alone until either I didn’t want Sunday to end or, more likely, when I wanted to repeat a particularly fun part of Sunday morning or Sunday afternoon or, even more likely, when I wanted that particular hour back.
For example, say Miss Carol made me go to church (um, it could happen) and I felt like I’d just wasted an hour. I could TURN BACK TIME and voila!, it was like it never really happened.
Or say that me and Miss Carol were sharing some afternoon delight (um, it could happen too) and were having so much fun that we wanted a repeat. Eazy peezy, just TURN BACK TIME and bingo- instant reset.
But what usually happened was that it would get to be late afternoon with the sun setting and the cold, hard reality of another Monday looming over my mood and outlook on life when I’d glance at my watch and go- Whoa there, big fella! We gots us another hour yet!, and laughing heartily- I would TURN BACK TIME.
*sigh* Those were the good old days.
But now they’re gone. Smart phone engineers and computer programmers and technology in all of it’s forms have gone out of their way to rob me of one more of life’s simple pleasures.
So this Sunday as soon as I woke up and before I could take steps to insulate myself and my idea of time to myself, I picked up my iPhone and automatically glanced at the lit up lock screen proudly proclaiming the hour-adjusted proper time and ruining what little is left of joy and happiness in my life.
oceandoggy.com 