Had anyone told me, as I contemplated all the changes and adjustments that would be necessary to settle into life in Canada, that one of the hardest adjustments I would face would be Daylight Saving Time, I would have disbelieved them.
While I was in Jamaica, I would tease G about his "fake hour" and complain about the fact that him being an hour ahead meant that he was ready for bed when I was still wanting to be up and talking. I enjoyed watching our favourite series (Showtime's Dexter) an hour before he did, but then had to wait for him to watch the episode so we could discuss it, and bite my tongue to not spoil it for him.
When I first landed in Canada, it was June, so Spring Ahead (the changing of the clocks forward) had already taken place. I essentially "lost" that hour of time sitting in the airplane on the tarmac at Lester B Pearson International, waiting to de-plane and "land" as a permanent resident. The pilot announced the local time, I changed my watch forward by an hour, and it was over. I had so many things to deal with that day, that the loss of an hour in this arbitrary fashion was the least of my concerns. Once fall rolled around and the time came to "Fall back", I was conscious only that we were on the same time as Jamaica once more.
2013 was a different story, however. I was present for the change (back) to Daylight Saving Time, and it was traumatic, to say the least. I got up at the usual time that Sunday to do my regular list of housework. However, my usual time was no longer "9:00 a.m." or so, it was "10:00 a.m." I was an hour late getting started. It seemed to only snowball from there, as I fell further and further behind the usual times I would be through with certain tasks. It was very nearly 9:00 p.m. that night before I was through, an unheard of time for me to complete the cleaning and laundry. Until fall 2013, I felt the loss of that hour keenly, and suffered from a constant, creeping sensation that I was always late. Anal as I am about time, this sensation unnerved me.
2014 spring ahead this year on March 9th was not much better. I actually set an alarm to wake me on a Sunday morning, something I have not done in years. I got up, set all the manual clocks forward, and started my housework at what was now 9:00 a.m. Time seemed to RACE away from me. Each time I looked at a clock, another hour had gone by, and I wasn't done with whatever I had started the hour before. It was past 6:00 p.m. when I finished the housework and went for a run, it was nearly 9:00 p.m. when I was out of the shower and ready to collapse into bed.
Things did not improve during the first week. My colleagues kept commiserating with me, saying it would be a week or so before I adjusted, that was how long it took them. I pointed out that this is my second YEAR dealing with this phenomenon in twenty years, I saw no improvement. When I forgot basic things like turning off a burner on the stove and what pieces of paper to give a customer, I realised I was seriously short on sleep and close to burning out. All for the loss of one hour.
I finally decided that my workouts would no longer be scheduled for the morning unless I was working an afternoon shift, and therefore had plenty of time to wake up and sort myself out, taking my time to make my brunch and get myself ready for work. I also set my alarm a half an hour later, for 7:00 a.m., as the darkness that persisted at what was now 6:30 a.m. simply added to my misery.
Speaking of it being dark at 6:30 a.m. following spring ahead: spring is ahead. Tomorrow is the Vernal Equinox, the official start of spring in the northern hemisphere. The earth's tilt towards the sun begins tomorrow, and a few more precious minutes of daylight will be added to each day. I am still tired, still feel that DST is a rip-off, am still convinced Jamaica's politicians made quite possibly one of their best decisions ever when they ceased to inflict it on the population. If only I could convince Canadians it is unnecessary!
