This rather fuzzy picture is supposed to be a picture of the clock located outside of our office building. I don’t know if you can tell but the clock says 6:29. The problem was that I thought it was 7:29. So I’m sure you can appreciate my panic at the thought that I was a full hour early to the office.
I live in constant fear that I will miss a time change. It’s an irrational fear. But because it’s irrational, there is just no arguing with it! I mean, I know that it only happens two times a year. And on a weekend. However, you try explaining that rational thought to the crazy section of my brain. (Although, I suppose, as far as irrational fears go, it could be worse. I could be terrified of rabbits. Or clowns. Wait, I am a little scared of clowns. But that’s a legit fear, have you seen a clown recently?)
Anyway, this morning was already off to a strange start. Last night I realized that my life as I know it was over. No more staying in bed until 6:30 or even 6:45 and then mosey into the office between 7:45 and 8. Nope. We hired a new guy yesterday and he is a morning person. Who likes to be in the office at 7. And my boss said that he agreed, and he would start coming in at 7:15 instead of 8:05. So now he will know what time I get there. Yuck. I’ve been spoiled.
I broke the news to Keith last night. Not only do I need to get up 20 minutes earlier, he needs to get up earlier so that I can have full access to the shower.
This morning worked as planned. He got up, then I got up, and I actually left on time! (Shocker, I know). But I was feeling a little off. Something was strange. Maybe it was the fact that the temperature outside was 35 degrees cooler then yesterday. Or the fact that it was still dark. And the loop seemed to be more deserted then usual. Seriously, where was everyone? How did they all get Friday off?
But when I got to work and saw the clock, I totally had a freak out. 6:29? I scrambled for my phone and frantically checked the number. It said 7:29. Then I remembered that sometimes my phone doesn’t automatically adjust to time changes. My phone could be wrong. That clock could be right.
What was I going to do at work a full hour early?
I considered turning around and heading home. And I thought about how upset Keith must have been when he got to work and realized it was 5:45 and not 6:45.
I decided to go into the office anyway. Because a little rational voice was arguing with the large, irrational part of my brain and trying to tell me that the clock was wrong. It was time to go to work. And sure enough, it was time to go to work. But that clock totally messed up my morning. Stupid clocks.