Don’t ask me when I became someone who goes grocery shopping before 8 a.m. On a Sunday. I couldn’t tell you. Maybe it was the extra hour, bestowed upon me by the heavenly sleep gods (or the end of daylight saving time), that filled me with a spark of ambition to conquer the world. Or at least the first half of my day.
I fully intended to sleep in. I’m not crazy about autumn’s shortened daylight hours and earlier sunsets, but the free Pass Go to collect $500 and some extra zzz’s November 1st is like an annual gift. This year, my body miscalculated. And there I was, filling my shopping cart, poring over pumpkin and produce, convinced that instead of in Aisle 5, perhaps I belonged back in bed.
By 10:30 I was hungry for lunch, my stomach protesting the recent time-shift. And by noon, I was feeling an afternoon lull.
A simple 60-minute reversal can leave us feeling out of sync or ready to take on the day. And no matter how we spend it, there will be tasks we postpone until tomorrow, in favor of faces we can spend time with today. And many days, faces we see only briefly, because 24 hours is never quite enough.
I don’t always make the most of my minutes and hours. There are times I feel like I’ve accomplished more in a morning than I can in a week, and times when I want to wind the clock back several hours to hit the reset button. And there are times that I long to stretch out each moment; to share, to relish, to remember.
For all these moments, I only hope that they continue to tell a story that is not perfect or predictable, but one that is real and full of life, and above all, one I can put my name on at the end of each day.