A couple weeks ago we "fell back", setting our clocks back an hour to more efficiently manage our sunlight usage. Maybe I haven't quite adjusted, or maybe I have somehow overcompensated internally. Whichever the case, when I woke this morning, I had that distinct feeling of behindness. Sure enough, the alarm clock was yearning unfulfilled in the distance, meaning I had to spring to immediate action if the morning were to be salvaged.
I leapt from my bed, got the kids' breakfast ready, and hopped into the shower after sending the kids to eat. Ten minutes later I was dressed, as were the children, and everything was going reasonably smooth, absent the tardiness. The kids finished their morning duties while I made school lunches, until finally it was time to hit the road. But not before one last time-check. Ahh! School starts in six minutes, I thought. So we scurried out the door in a mad haste, thinking we'd be lucky to make it on time.
As we approached the school, with only minutes before the starting bell, the kids were having a typical morning skirmish in the back seat. I remember trying to quell the outbreak by saying we were almost to school, we'd probably be late, and that we didn't have time to argue over silly stuff.
No sooner had I said that did we reach the turn lane, which I made use of to turn into a... completely... empty... parking lot?!?
I stared intently at the clock in the car after coming to a complete stop. Seven... oh... one... This can't be right, I kept thinking. It's eight o'clock. Eight I tell you, not seven. There's just no way.
But no matter how many times I looked at my clock or my cell phone, the answer always came back the same. It was seven o'clock. I couldn't believe it. The kids immediately burst out laughing as I threw my head back against the seat in disgust. Not that I was an hour early, but that I was so cluelessly an hour early.
How could this happen? How did I miss the warning signs? How did I miss-read every clock I encountered prior to pulling into the school? All I could think was "worm holes". There's no other explanation, and I think even Occam would back me on this one. There's just no way -- NO WAY -- I tell you, that I woke up, got ready, and got somewhere an hour early on accident. It just doesn't work that way for me. I'm either a little early by design, or just in time if not late by some manner of interference.
After spending about ten seconds in awe of the moment -- during which I hypothesized my wormhole time-compression theorem -- I realized we really would be late if we didn't get a move on. So we got ourselves out of the car and into the school for pre-school care. The whole way in, the girls were skipping, giggling, and singing, "we're errr-ly, we're errr-ly" in clear mockery of their father. I couldn't help but think the entire ordeal was the harbinger of a bad day on the rise, as I made my way to work far earlier than usual. It was about 7:26 when I pulled into a parking spot, and I would soon find that my expectations for the day were far underrated. But that's a tale for the next entry.
(pause for intermission)
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