Time Change Blues

We slept in on Sunday morning, rose a little later than normal, and turned on the TV, but instead of seeing Willie Geist’s face on NBC’s Sunday TODAY, I saw Pastor David Jeremiah at his Turning Point pulpit on our screen.

“Why is Dr. David Jeremiah still on?” I asked my husband, but before he could say a word, I realized the answer to my question. I wrinkled up my face in disgust — not at Dr. Jeremiah. Indeed, I kind of like his sermons. I was irritated because I realized that overnight, the U.S. had fallen back an hour. It wasn’t 8:30 a.m. It was 7:30 a.m. This revelation nearly ruined my otherwise beautiful day.

Since the passage of the Energy Policy Act of 2005, Daylight Saving Time in the U.S. has begun on the second Sunday in March and has ended on the first Sunday in November, which corresponded with this past weekend. Like me, thousands of people — if not millions — rose to the same revelation as I did. Some probably arrived an hour early for church services.

So let’s talk about this special time of year when we Americans try to fool ourselves into thinking we’re somehow gaining an hour of sleep. First of all, let me say this: I am not a fan. Yes, it’s the end of Daylight Saving Time, but it is also the beginning of what I like to call the Great Darkness Depression. Indeed, Simon & Garfunkel inadvertently wrote lyrics about this transition singing, “Hello darkness, my old friend.” One day you’re l i v – ing your best life, enjoy- inglateafternoon strolls in autumn’s more moderate weather and watching the sunset paint the sky just after dinnertime. The next day, it starts getting dark at 3 o’clock in the afternoon, and all you can think about is taking a nap. “But hey, you got an extra hour of sleep!” the perky television anchors chirp from their news desks. Yeah, I got one bonus hour of sleep for one day, in exchange for four months of vitamin D deficiency, thinking it’s bedtime in the middle of the afternoon, and I’m being honest here, a touch of melancholy and depression — just a touch, but still.

Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) is a real thing, y’all! It’s a form of depression related to changes in seasons. Symptoms start in the fall and continue into the winter months, zapping our energy and making some of us feel moody. About 10 million Americans experience SAD, or as our ancestors used to call it, “the winter blues.” Some of us just need sunshine! And apparently, I am one of them.

And as the time change plays a kind of psychological warfare on my brain, it also affects my productivity. In summer, when it’s so bright and cheerful outside at 7 p.m., I routinely announce, “I think I’ll go outside and weed that flowerbed and wash the car before it gets dark! I have plenty of time.” But now? The moment darkness descends at the criminally early hour of 4:30 p.m, I find myself sitting on the sofa a lot, staring at the TV and my husband. Both of us look at our phones every few minutes to see if it’s bedtime yet, then finally one of us says, “Well, I thought it was 10 o’clock, but it’s only 7:30. Let’s try to stay awake another hour.” continued from page

Yet, with all of my disgust and animosity toward the fall time shift, there is an upside. The extra few minutes of sunlight in the mornings do help wake me up, and that’s a good thing. It helps me rise and shine — or try to shine.

Look, I understand the reasons and rationale for this whole “Daylight Saving Time” foolishness. But in an age when we have smartphones that can tell us tomorrow’s weather down to the minute, selfdriving cars, and pizza-delivering robots, perhaps it’s time to admit that manually changing our relationship with the sun twice a year isn’t the most sophisticated approach to modern life.

Until then, I’ll be here, checking my clock every five minutes, wondering if it’s too early to put on my pajamas, and dreaming of those glorious spring days when we’ll “spring forward,” and move our clocks in the other direction.