I was unaware of the time change until I went online this morning and learned I'd best reset my clocks to fall back an hour – otherwise I'd be out of sync with the rest of my friends, neighbors, and business places, etc. I couldn't help recalling, though, how American Indians once reportedly described Daylight Savings Time as cutting off one end of the blanket and sewing it on to the other end.
That got me thinking about the ingenuity of our time system around the world. Don't expect me to know how it plays out across other time zones, though. I'm lucky to get nudged by my laptop to reset my clocks.
I was okay back in the day when my two children met the school bus each morning, Monday through Friday, in pursuit of their education. One explanation for the time change twice a year was that it made it safer for kids waiting for the bus, which would otherwise arrive before daylight. It was also suggested that depending on the season, it allowed farm kids to get home earlier to help with the chores. Those reasons for resetting our clocks twice a year seemed practical enough, and as we were not a farm family, I didn't question the rationale.
My only complaint regarding Daylight Savings Time is that my stomach has yet to get the message that now we're going to eat either an hour later or an hour before our usual meal time. And it takes my stomach and me at least several weeks to adjust to the change. It's a bigger problem when you're meeting friends for dinner at a nearby restaurant, and your appetite is on the previous schedule.
I failed to mention that DST also messes up our sleep schedules. If you're used to going to bed at 10 P.M. and getting up at 6 A.M., an hour earlier on either end can be disconcerting, to say the least. And your employer won't appreciate it, if on the other hand, you arrive at work an hour late.
The good news is that if you're single and retired – my status – you're free to eat and sleep according to your own dictates. That works for me.