It's just a shade after 10 p.m. according to the clock on the wall, and I feel as though I've been hit over the head with a cob.
Part of it is because after the good, long snooze I had yesterday I stayed up until close to 2 ayem in the morning checking to see what y'all were doing, what was on Woot.com, playing a crossword puzzle online...you know, the important things in life.
The other part is the change in time that hit this past weekend. I abhor the changing time. I want my time to be the same all year long, thank you very much. I don't want to worry about whether or not to set the clocks ahead or back an hour, and I surely despise when we lose an hour.
I'm telling you, it's enough to drive a sane woman nuts. And me, too.
I used to rebel. (Hmmmm.....fancy that, ME rebelling! How very odd.)
I refused to change my clocks when all the Springing and Falling took place. I decided I would continue to live on whatever time it was at the time, and have my own little war against The Man who was trying to Hold Me Down by telling ME what time it was.
Right on, brother.
However, after finding myself either an hour early or an hour late for most appointments I had and getting myself thoroughly confused as to what time it REALLY was on any given day at any given time, I gave up on that pursuit.
The Establishment won again.
Nowadays I find myself not changing the clocks due to sheer laziness. Even Flower Children grow up and become politicians. You can't be a rebel forever.
So I will head off to bed now, knowing I will awaken before the alarm...at least for the next few days.
Because my internal clock really doesn't know what time it is.