On losing time. (Day 74)

I have a BREAKING NEWS report for everyone!

It is now Daylight Savings Time and we've all officially lost our damn minds   an hour! 

I think nearly everyone, except for the one old time-y farmer who is approximately 121 years old somewhere in the middle of America,* is struggling today. 

It is like being slapped in the face every year. I have literally walked around all day, asking everyone, everything and the dog for the time. Then when I am provided the time (not by the dog, he also does not know), I simply do not believe it and begin asking again if that is really the time. 

We ate dinner at 8pm for some reason, because it seemed weird to have our evening meal in the daylight and I had spent at least an hour trying to assess what the time was and then not believing my watch or the cat, when she agreed with my watch (you can tell she agrees when she gives you that mean, incredulous stare). 

ANYWAY, I know you are so relieved I filled you in on what was going on with the time! 

Losing time is a weird thing, whether by odd days placed on the calendar for reasons that remain illogical (someone pointed out today that Farmers now have headlights on their tractor-machines, so really daylight is relative. Then another person argued the plants prefer this arrangement, because I guess now plants have opinions.) or by pandemic. 

Anyone else feel like they lose time, all the time?

Today, my Facebook Memory from a year ago was this:


Note: this was only a few days after a global pandemic was declared and our entire family was already emotionally unstable.  (Although our family was fully stocked on all end of the world supplies because I am obsessed with health news and I have some very very special and paranoid well-read friends who had been tracking the pandemic since like November.) 

My mom was acting like a prisoner and kept trying to make escapes to meet random old ladies at the CVS for secret exchanges of Christian crime novels (yes, this is a thing. Later, they'd exchange masks and complaints about their jailer children). My dog was completely confused as to why we were home; the cat went into full hiding. I was panic ordering Easter hams from the internet while sourcing white plastic Easter eggs the children could dye, in the event actual eggs disappeared. My husband created a complicated system of locks on the fence, so no one could get in and we had trouble escaping (I still cannot get out and am often tempted to use a lawn chair to hop the fence). The children began "school" at home which consisted of strange disconnected activities. 

I began going on long, long walks and jumping to the other side of the street when I saw other people. In fact, I began thinking of other people as Zombies, who might go all Walking Dead on me and chew my arm off. (I became a very, very fast walker/runner last year. Olympic level, maybe!). I also began strategizing how I would get more supplies and more food delivered to the home from a variety of random vendors. 

I also began, irrationally, baking my own bread as if I was a Midwest farmer's wife (maybe married to that guy who still loves Daylight Savings Time). I was not baking for pleasure, I was baking because WHAT IF I COULD NEVER HAVE LEAVENED BREAD AGAIN!?

And then I began manically signing the children up for online enrichment! Shark story time! Draw a flower class! French animals and their habitats! Mike started a front yard sports league. I even hit a ball with a bat for some reason and found it to be a highlight of my week. 

And, of course, that's when I started shaming pandemic deniers and in-store grocery shoppers in full, irrational force. I wanted everyone to stay home, so I could walk in peace and solitude without having to run so much. 

Like Daylight Savings Time, I lost my damn mind and here we are, over a year later. Still confused about the time, still living in a pandemic and I am still totally avoiding people I see on the street, not because I think they are zombies (I mean that is possible) but because I simply don't what to talk to them and frankly, if they don't know what the time is either, then they are no use to me. 

*FYI I adore old time-y farmers and the middle of America. 

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