People don’t plan this much for the end of their lives, so I doubt that many will have done the following in preparation for Great Excuse for Being Late Day, which is today.
These hints are from a HealthDay News service story on how to soften the blow of losing one hour to daylight-saving time.
On Thursday, you were supposed to “readjust your sleep schedule.” And sometime during the last few days you were supposed to “modify your eating schedule by having dinner one hour earlier.”
Oh, and here’s a good one. “Keep a light schedule, such as minimizing driving and avoiding strenuous physical activity, on the Monday after the time change.” Why don’t you just call in sick, you baby? “Gee, boss, this time change has really thrown me. We could be talking long-term disability here.”
Or just enjoy the holiday and be late for any obligations you have today. You have a great excuse.
My complaint involves the other 364 days in a year. Many people simply have no problem with being late anytime. They have no excuse. It’s who they are.
It’s not me. My life is littered with faults. I’m messy, disorganized, potentially thoughtless. The one big, shiny trophy I have is that I am rarely late. It’s the only time I can expect people to think: “Boy, that Ross really has it together.”
I’m not always in control of my fate, however. I live with wind drag, someone for whom tardiness is an honor, a way to stick it to the man (apparently me).
In her defense, she is neat, organized and thoughtful in all other things. But with social occasions or the airport, we shall be late. My only hope is to lie about when we’re really supposed to be somewhere, because if I don’t, I’ll speed and endanger lives. I can’t help it.
Organization guru Doreen Stern, known as The Desk Docktor, described exactly what has happened to people and certainly to me when running late: “Was your heart beating madly, making you feel sick to your stomach? Was your head throbbing? Were you berating yourself, telling yourself you should have done things differently?”
Yes to all that, but I wasn’t berating myself.
Being on time is so easy. You know what time you have to be there, you know the prep time, and you know the travel time, plus you add a few minutes because you know you’ll hit a jam caused by a wreck involving a guy who was speeding because his heart was beating madly and he felt sick to his stomach.
The moral: Boys and girls, consider all of this when selecting a mate, because if you’re chrono-mismatches, one of you is going to lose an hour every weekend for the rest of your life.
Now go reset those clocks.
More Top Picks Samsung Hw J250
———-