Every. Year.
I do this every year.
There’s my regular anxiety. Then let’s add in some pandemic anxiety. This year alone has plagued on every single existing anxiety I already have. Germs and mystery illness? Check. Keeping my kids safe? Check. Unnecessarily angry, and aggressive people? Check. Worrying for people who have really been affected by all this? Check.
Add in some election anxiety, because I think we all have PTSD, and now it’s also time to switch to my fancy holiday anxiety.
Then, let’s stir it all up with a nice side of time change. As if my body will magically comp the lost time and let me sleep in. The entire notion irks me. Let’s just take away another hour of light and change everything up because everyone was on edge already.
Yes, this is the soapbox I’ve chosen, out of all the available soapboxes. This is the hill I will die on. Can’t we the people, a currently divided nation, be unified over our mutual hate for this one thing?
But this year has been especially severe. I really just want to know who the heck planned a time change RIGHT BEFORE AN ELECTION. Who’s in charge of this!?? There’s always some vague petition with good intentions you can sign somewhere, that asks for money for someone in office to go for it, but first we have to march or something. Can I get a giant clock hat? Should we do t-shirts with clocks + glocks?
No, I don’t know how it works. I don’t even really know what a glock looks like but it sounded scary because murder + clocks, and rhymed. Points for branding. If someone wanted to get rid of the time change, and that person was to run for something, I would head up their campaign.
Please make it Matthew McConaughey.
I forget every year, how hard this is going to be. I morph into a zombie. Someone give me tips… and that doesn’t include starting two weeks ahead by setting the clock then because I still have to do it, and that’s not helpful, LISA. I’ve been wandering around the house, asking everyone why it’s only 4, and not 7 pm. I’m up at 5 a.m. because my body told me to.
I’m a summer forever gal. And just when I’m embracing fall {because honestly, that’s hard for me} someone has to go and turn out the lights.
I lost my mind last week, {or did I?} and decided to decorate for Christmas. Whilst listening to murder podcasts. Totally normal, right? I don’t know what to tell you other than I’m a reformed holiday purist, and I like true crime. I figured if the world is dark and full of terrors, I could embrace gratefulness and exhaustion all in one and make the house sparkle. No, I’m not skipping Thanksgiving. I’m wholly embracing it for two months instead of one. With glitter.
I saw some neighbors walk by our house and spy the tree lights through the window, then throw their heads back and laugh a little. It’s fine. Everything’s fine. STOP LOOKING AT ME SWAN!
Also don’t whine about it when you’re stressed out in December, JANICE.
I had dreams the other night of colorful bottle brush trees and vote tallies. I have no idea why. It probably doesn’t help that we have precisely 7.5 Christmas trees in our house. The fact that maybe I need to calm down is not lost on me.
Side note: Our kids have never been more into an election cycle. Our youngest, a 5th grader, stayed home from school on Wednesday to catch up on his rest {yes, we do that sometimes since being tired can wear your immunity down} and we left for a meeting. When we came back, he had the news on, and was filling us in on minute by minute updates on each state. When he’s really interested, he digests something to the core, and teaches me things.
But side tangent, because I’m not a farmer who has to get the Betsy the cow inside the barn. This is not 1900. We have electricity now. I’m sorry if you’re a farmer and you’re reading this and triggered. I’m also sorry if you know someone, or your sister’s husband’s child’s aunt is a farm dog, and you also feel triggered. I’m sure someone out there is triggered. If you have rabies, feel free to leave a comment. Nothing is safe so consider this my disclaimer. The irony is not lost on me that my late great grandmother landed in Ripley’s Believe It Or Not for the most cotton picked in a day in Mississippi. I think she was like 80 and it was one quadrillion pounds and it was one hundred eleventy degrees or or something. I should probably look that up. She also probs bit a stick to birth her children in the same field, and I’m a soft loser; a sad product of electricity and epidurals. She’s mocking me right now from heaven, sending another sleepless night in the form of a nose bleed from one of our children.
Oh wait, that was last night. And it was Jamin.
Get your extra hour of sleep, they said. It will be fun, they said.
Those people never ever in a bazillion years, had a child. Or puppy.
Or soul.
After my fourth night of hobbling back to bed at 8:30, I complained to Jamin, on the verge of tears the next day. “It’s like the universe just wants me to die,” I moaned.
“You do this every year,” he said, rolling his eyes at my crumpled state while I sat withered on the sofa.
Thanks Jamin. That’s super helpful. I’m sucking down vitamins hoping I don’t die, and you like to remind me that I’m a weak human being who “does this every year”. It doesn’t help that I keep asking him to check my temp to make sure it’s not Covid.
No worries, because I’m quietly waiting for him to run out of toilet paper again in the bathroom so I can aptly remind him he “does this every time” while I do a revenge saunter by the door and leave him there to suffer.
Penchant for drama noted.
The world is full of zombies {morons?} and I’m ready to finish off the kids’ Halloween candy, so I can go into hibernation for the rest of the year. Is it over yet? I’m a complicated house plant in need of sunlight and sleep and water. I’m hunkering down for the winter, and hooking up my vitamin I.V. + Happy Light in the cabana. I’ll be hand-sewing that giant felt clock hat a-la the fetal position in the corner if anyone needs me. At least I have my Christmas sparkle and dark sense of humor to keep me warm.
Stop making the time change already. Sunlight forever. I’m moving to Hawaii.
Over and out.
Thanks for expressing what I am feeling as well. It’s good to know others are in the same state of flux. I was up at 5:00 because MY body told me to, so I did a few miles in my bicycle until the sun came up. Best wishes.
YES! Well, here’s to making it productive? Same here – up since 4:30 working :D. I figure if I can’t sleep, may as well do something. Hope you feel better after that workout!
Just to set the record straight – farmers hate the time change as well – Bessy the cow doesn’t care that what was 5:00 is now 4:00am – she still needs to be milked please.
I cannot for the life of me figure out who is actually to blame for this idea, but it isn’t the farmers. 🙂
HAHA I do NOT actually blame current day farmers. All in jest. Farmers should form a coalition so that they’ll listen since we actually wouldn’t make it without them. :} I will fully support whatever they decide + bring those hats and t-shirts!
You are a very funny lady! Thanks for the much needed laughs in the crazy year. I hope your sleep cycle resets soon.
HAHA! Thank you! I’ll be in bed by 6 tonight 😀
Thanks so much for the giggle, I mean guffaw! You seem to be able to write down on paper what is going on in my head as well. I really enjoy your posts, thank you for making this crazy time a little more manageable!
HAHA ANYTHING I can do to help! You’re SO not alone. ;}
“Fancy holiday anxiety” cracked me up 😀