Damn You, Daylight Saving Time

It’s been over two weeks, and insomnia has taken over my life. My husband and son laugh at this time each year when I can hardly keep my eyes open at dusk, and my body turns me into a cranky, yawning sleep-deprived mess.

Damn you, Daylight Saving Time.

It’s not that I don’t WANT to sleep – I’d like nothing more than to drift off at a normal hour (say, 10:00 p.m.), snuggled up under my soft down comforter for eight hours of uninterrupted bliss. I’d love that, honestly. Imagine, eight hours of sleep would find me wide awake at a decent hour – 6 a.m. – plenty of time to write, savor some strong coffee and center myself with vanilla scented candles flickering in the pre-dawn light.

Oh, the joy and rapture.

Roasted coffee beans
Roasted coffee beans

And don’t tell me to cut down on caffeine, or keep the room cool, or turn off electronics well before bedtime. I’m doing that! My afternoon coffee has disappeared, only occasionally to be replaced by some nice Bengal Spice tea. I’ve tried a nice PInot, a shot of Fireball, and cutting back on sugar. I’ve got the windows cracked and the laptop closed long before I turn out the light – or rather, my husband clicks off the light and removes my latest read from my fingers, slipping off my glasses as he says goodnight. At 8:00 p.m.

What is happening to me? Am I becoming my mother?

Do you know how quiet it is at 4:00 a.m.? I do. It’s dark, and I hear every squeak and moan of my 60-year-old house. I hear the spirits as they come to the door, the thoughts that tumble around my brain as the wake me far before they should. I’ll get my eight hours, for sure, but this is ridiculous. I know you’ve been wondering why my tweets and texts come at such incredible hours – and no, I’m not reliving my college all-nighters, I’m simply suffering from middle-age adjustment issues.

Do I hear any ‘ayes’ in agreement out there?

sunrise
sunrise over the Salt Flats

There must be some sort of infomercial, some ‘As Seen On TV’ product that will solve my issues. I just want to stay awake like a normal person, watch a little prime-time TV maybe, and wake up AT dawn, not before. I don’t need to hear the early morning garbage pick up, or turn off the delay on the coffee pot to make the dark roast happen right now. I stubbornly set my alarm for 6 every night, hoping against hope that the quiet tunes of ‘Radiate’ will ease me into wakefulness. And every morning it’s the same old, same old – by the time my alarm is off, I’ve read my Facebook feeds, tweeted and texted and updated myself on all the news that I missed overnight.

It’s a vicious cycle, I tell you. But I have hope. I’ve got a good four months to get back on track before, well, you know. Please tell me I’m not the only one. Reassure me that I’m not just hitting that annoying part of middle age. I simply want to sleep.

Damn you, Daylight Saving Time.

Jennifer Wolfe

Jennifer Wolfe, a writer-teacher-mom, is dedicated to finding the extraordinary in the ordinary moments of life by thinking deeply, loving fiercely, and teaching audaciously. Jennifer is a Google Certified Educator, Hyperdoc fanatic, and a voracious reader. Read her stories on her blog, mamawolfe, and grab free copies of her teaching and parenting resources.

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Friday Photo: Schizophrenic Spring

I woke up and realized it was actually spring.  Well, sort of.  According to the calendar, according to the blooms, according to the upcoming switch to Daylight Savings Time, that is.  According to me, it feels like I’m still stuck in the darkness of winter.  It has my brain and body scrambled and in a state of constant confusion.
At my day job, I’m teaching kids what they need to know now and telling them how to prepare for the future.  I’m scrambling to complete all my school year expectations while planning for the next crop of students to arrive in late August.
My weekday central California mornings are just above freezing, but steadily warm during the day.  My Sierra weekend mornings are far below freezing, but eventually warm and turn the snow to slush.
In the morning I want to turn on the heat, but know in the afternoon I will want to throw open the windows.  I wear a wool coat to work, but strip down to a single layer by noon.
I’m washing woolen ski socks, fleece long underwear and baseball uniforms in the same load.  I have a baseball bag on one seat of the car, and a ski bag on the other.
Hot, steaming coffee brings me into the day, and cool diet Pepsi keeps me going into the dark.
The weather report calls for sunny days this weekend and rainy days next week.  The trees are blooming, partway.
At home, my son is growing out of sixth grade and growing excited about moving to the junior high school.  My daughter is planning for junior year classes to prepare her for college admissions.
I feel like I’m half way there, too.  Balancing between two jobs, two lives, two of everything and never quite whole of either.  Sometimes blooming, sometimes dormant.
And I’m all mixed up.  Some days it feels like the best I can do is just make it to bedtime in one piece.  On others, I have the energy to take on the world and then some.
Do you feel it, too?  Is it a schizophrenic spring in your world, or am I the only crazy one?
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Jennifer Wolfe

Jennifer Wolfe, a writer-teacher-mom, is dedicated to finding the extraordinary in the ordinary moments of life by thinking deeply, loving fiercely, and teaching audaciously. Jennifer is a Google Certified Educator, Hyperdoc fanatic, and a voracious reader. Read her stories on her blog, mamawolfe, and grab free copies of her teaching and parenting resources.

More Posts - Website

Follow Me:
TwitterFacebookLinkedInPinterestGoogle PlusYelp