What’s the point of bloody daylight savings?

I am a creature of habit and hold a particular fondness for complaining. I complain when rushed or pressured. I complain when it’s too cold or too hot. I complain when I’m too tired or very overwhelmed. But living in Canada has given me something new, or rather incredibly frustrating, to complain about. Bloody daylight savings.

Luckily, I am not an insomniac, but my sleep schedule is very precise. Despite being 22 going on 59, I cannot nap. I also seemingly cannot fall asleep before 2 o’clock in the morning, and believe me, I’ve tried.

Sleeping itself is a funny thing. To fall asleep, we pretend to sleep and then have no idea when we actually fall asleep. The only way we know we were successful is by waking up. I can’t think of anything else that works that way.

You don’t pretend to play basketball and then make every shot. You can’t pretend to read and suddenly understand Shakespeare. You don’t pretend to eat and suddenly feel full. Or maybe these examples make no sense. Just thinking about them has my head in a twist.

Back to sleeping and me and bloody daylight savings.

Here’s how I experienced Sunday, Nov. 6, 2022, the day bloody daylight savings ended.

I went to bed at 2 a.m., woke up at 11 a.m., slept for an hour and then woke up AGAIN at 11 a.m. Yes, you read that correctly. I woke up twice at 11 a.m.

Then I started whinging.

When I woke up the first time my watch said 11 a.m. because my analog watch hadn’t “fallen back.” So, I went to bed at 2 a.m. and slept for nine hours. Then I slept another hour, by my math 10 total hours, and still woke up at 11 a.m. All because 2 a.m. “fell back” to 1 a.m., meaning the first 11 a.m. was actually 10 a.m.

As you can tell, I found this all to be hilarious.

Yes, I got an extra hour of sleep and I watched football and American football (debate among yourselves, I will not conform) and I went to the gym and got my assignments done in time.

“So why are you complaining Kolbe?” You, the reader, ask this as if thou art a frustrated matriarchal figure.

Well first, I love to complain but second, this is how I experienced Monday, Nov. 7, 2022.

I went to bed at 2 a.m., woke up at 9 a.m. went to class at 1 p.m. and then the sun set at 5 p.m. Or at least that’s what my body thought.

Actually, according to the clock, I went to bed at 1 a.m., woke up at 8 a.m. and went to class at 12 p.m. However, the sun still set at 5 p.m. This is my biggest grievance with bloody daylight savings.

In the Caribbean, where I grew up, the sun sets at half six (6:30 p.m., I will not conform) during the summer and half five (5:30 p.m.) during winter. Where I grew up this process takes months because where I grew up, we don’t have bloody daylight savings.

In Canada however, on Sunday Nov. 6, 2022, the sun set at 6 p.m. On Monday I couldn’t see my hands at 5:01 p.m. Oh what joy.

And immediately the “it’s dark already. It’s only five,” comments came out like Tom from behind the door in that Tom and Jerry meme. If you don’t know it, Google it. You know it.

Now I must spend the next five months hypnotizing myself to believe that half four (4:30 p.m.) is actually half five (5:30 p.m.) because it makes sense to me that the sun sets at half five. I have to constantly remind myself that the night is indeed young because “Every day around midnight, I’m shocked to find out it’s only 6 p.m.”

As much as I’d love to claim to be the brilliant mind that wrote these words in near Shakespearean perfection, that honour goes to Twitter user @SincerelyVeena.

The tweet was posted on Nov. 10, 2020, has 292,000 likes and 71,000 retweets.

Clearly, I am not the only one who detests bloody daylight savings.

I can’t wait for March when everything moves forward again. Believe you me, I will complain till the proverbial cows come home.

Which therefore begs the question, with bloody daylight savings, how do we know when the cows are coming home?


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