Yawn, mutter grumble


If you didn’t face the morning with your normal enthusiasm you’re not alone.

My eyes register what the numbers on the clock face say but the rest of me is firmly convinced it’s a whole hour earlier.

I understand the theory behind daylight saving and accept it in mid-summer but I have difficulty appreciating it in practice on a decidedly cool spring morning when I need every one of those lost 60 minutes to engender enough enthusiasm to get out of bed.

The cause of this inconvenience can be laid at the door of North Islanders.

If they had the sense to move south where we already enjoy long summer twilights they could have what they want without stealing an hour from our mornings.

Since they selfishly decide to stay put, we’ll have to endure these cold, dark dawns until our bodies catch up with the clocks.

It was bad enough when it happened at Labour weekend when we had the Monday off to help us adjust to rude awakenings, but those who think they know best have dragged the start forward to the last weekend in September.

It’s a little too early to enjoy the long evenings and a lot too soon to feel enthusiastic about losing an hour in the morning.

The only fool-proof way to take the sting out of the spring leap forward is to take a break where time isn’t important. Preferably somewhere warm like Fiji where you could lounge around in the sun then come home so refreshed that getting out of bed an hour earlier wouldn’t really hurt.

Unfortunately few of us have the time or money to make such an annual pilgrimage. We just have to stay home and put up with a week or two of discomfort until the confusion between body time and the actual time is sorted out.

If you have young children the mornings won’t be the only problem. It can take a lot of convincing little people it’s bedtime when their body clocks know perfectly well there are another 3600 seconds of play and story telling left in the day.

I always mean to prepare for the time change by going to bed 10 minutes earlier each week for the six weeks before it happens. That would mean by the time daylight savings was introduced my body would be in tune with the clock/

Unfortunately it’s a good intention which I’ve never got round to putting into practice. So every year I have the same struggle to adjust my inner clock to the outer reality. It’s like suffering from jet lag without having had the fun of a holiday.

As one who values sleep as only those who’ve had young children can, this isn’t something I find easy, and knowing that I’m going through it a good three weeks earlier than it ought to be isn’t helping.

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