Better three hours too soon than a minute too late.

I was born three days late—and I’ve been trying to catch up ever since.

I don’t really like to be late for things, but it happens. I try to budget my time, really I do. I don’t like getting up in the mornings—probably because I may have just gotten to sleep an hour before the damned alarm went off. But, I set my clock ahead by 15 minutes because of this. And I set the alarm for about 25 minutes before I actually need to get up, so I have time to ease into rising. I shower the night before to save time (don’t worry; I do a quick refresher wash in the AM). I even occasionally lay out my outfit ahead of time.

Since I’ve developed all of the fatigue and pain issues, I’ve really had to allow myself time. I just can’t sail out of bed like I used to…

See, I try….. And generally I’m pretty good— it’s other people that fowl me up.

Like jerks that see you waiting to pull out of a side street and they don’t put their turn signal on. Then they turn right next to you, and you’re stuck. Or a-holes who are so busy texting or whatever they don’t realize the light has turned green. Then they get through and I don’t. Or dillweeds who pull out in front of you and go 2 miles an hour. You have to hit the breaks—invariably, when you check the rearview mirror, there’s not a soul behind you.

Like, why would PennDOT start road work during the morning rush? The last thing we all need as we drag our sorry asses to work is to get stuck waiting to get around a lane closure on a portion of a road. I know they have to fix stuff, but can’t they wait until everyone’s at work?

The one that really drives me nuts is the wusses who brake at every curve or hill. Sheesh, learn how to drive for heaven’s sake. One time my friend showed up almost 30 minutes late to our shift at a local theatre company’s box office. He just looked at me and said “I hate when people look on the speed limit as a mandate instead of a suggestion.”

That whole getting to work thing has been my biggest challenge (I have rarely been late to the theatre). I remember slinking into the wallcovering store where I worked about 5 minutes late one day and sheepishly going “Boy that Schuylkill Expressway is a bitch.” I lived about 8 miles from the store via all residential side streets. Hey, if other people could use it, why couldn’t I?

My kids were in nursery school when I started that job—I worked 2 evenings a week and Saturdays. One evening I was getting dressed for work and my son got hurt. I blurted out “I didn’t plan comforting time.” as I took him in my arms. I called the store and said I’d be about 15 minutes late.

In my own defense, I must state that if I am late arriving (like I said, morning is not my strong suit), I will shorten my lunch break or stay past my allotted time to make up for it. I never short-change people.

I was born three days late. It’s been 58 years, but I think I’ve just about caught up.

Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to night!

I’ve noticed the days are getting shorter and shorter—starting about a month ago. The past few nights it has been dark by 6:30 or so.
I hate the long months of days when I get up in the dark and come home from work in the dark—it’s so depressing. Especially the getting up in the dark—I hate getting up in the morning to begin with. Having to crawl out of bed when it’s still dark out just totally sucks. Sorry, but it does.

I mean, I’m a theater person—I’m used to spending lots of time in the dark. It’s what we do. [But we also spend a lot of time in the light—albeit artificial….]

I'm sorry, but I just hate that whole “Fall back, Spring forward” time switch thing. I don’t get it. What is the point? It’s just a pain in the ass to twice a year have to adjust the microwave, the VCR, the alarm clock, wall clocks—and the clock in my car. Sheesh. Thank god the computer and my cell phone do it on their own.

I really wondered why this whole mishegoss got started—sooooo, Google here I come....

First interesting fact: It was Philly’s own Ben Franklin who came up with the concept. Oh, Ben…. He got his inspiration while in Paris. [That is so not what I’d be thinking about if I was in Paris, but I digress.] Apparently, Franklin had befriended some people who had invented a new kind of oil lamp; they were so enamored of his concept that they continued corresponding with Franklin even after he returned to America. [Ah, the first oil lobbyists!!]

Second goodie: the official spelling is Daylight Saving Time, NOT Daylight SavingS Time. Oops, we all get that one wrong. Our bad.

Next little tidbit: In the U.S., 2:00 a.m. was originally chosen as the changeover time because it was practical and minimized disruption. [And the bars love that extra hour of revenue in the Fall.]

And this one: at one time in the 60s, the Twin Cities of Minneapolis and St. Paul made the switch on different dates and things got really confusing…..

[Follow the link from the title of this post to learn more interesting factoids—like the guy who used DST to avoid the draft during the Vietnam War.]

Now the rationale for this entire thing started in the springtime: the main purpose of Daylight Saving Time (called "Summer Time" in several parts of the world) is to make better use of daylight. We flip the clocks during the summer months to move an hour of daylight from the morning to the evening. [Okay, I'll play along...] Then, in the 70s, it became a whole energy saving thing. [Remember the energy crisis of the 70s-- $.89 a gallon seems like nirvana now, doesn't it?] Maybe it’s just me, but I'm pretty sure I use more electricity in the winter cause I have to turn lights on in the morning and at night. [Of course, with the whole menopause thing, the AC is on even in the middle of a blizzard, so I lose big time there.]…. I’m confused. But, like the rest of you, I will run around my apartment changing all the clocks on November 1st.....

Okay, looking at this and yesterday’s post, I’m coming across as really crabby. Maybe I have Seasonal Affective Disorder?

The Whirligig of Time

I've been thinking alot about time this week--or rather the passing of it. You hear this contantly [and when I was a kid, it annoyed the crap out of me], but the older you get the faster it goes by you.

It seems just a bit ago that I was a young woman of 17 [with a hot body and perky boobs]planning to take Broadway by storm... Instead I fell in love. And wasn't is last week that I was the mother of 2 bright pre-schoolers. Now they are in their [gulp] 30's. Now I know it was just the other day I was helping my 16 year old daughter give birth to a son. And yet, her son graduated from high school on Wednesday night. [I vividly remember him sitting on my lap, weeks before his second birthday, applauding his mommy's graduation--in the very same venue where his was held.]

How can all of this be? How did the time get away from me--And why can't I snatch some of it back? [And not just to have my younger, thinner and more nimble self back--although that would be nice too. But that's for another post]

My daughter and son are amazing adults, but I still can't help but wish I could do a few things over. I tried the best I knew how, but I still have nagging doubts about so much of how I handled things. The most important things we do in life, our relationships and parenting, are the things we have the least training for. There was so much I just guessed at--and prayed I didn't screw them up too much. I sometimes think they've turned out well in spite of me.

The one thing that has been a validation, of sorts, is watching my daughter raise her son. She is a fantastic mom--and I try to tell her that as much as I can. There are many things she handled like I would have, but there are countless times she did it so much better.

For the first 8 years, she and her son lived with her father and I. And my mother-in-law and my grandson's paternal grandparents also cared for him quite frequently. As did her brother. As a result, he's kind of an example of "It Takes a Village" in that he's absorbed a lot of traits from all of the people who helped take care of him those first few years.

But it's been pretty much all my daughter during the past 9.... and I commend her for giving the world an amazing young man. Yet as she, my son and I watched him graduate, we later shared that we all wished we had more time. Time to give more life lessons. Time to impart more wisdom. But most of all, just time to kick back and share more laughs--and hugs.

Yeah, I've been thinking alot about time this past week....