Monday morning time confusion

So it’s 9.07 on a Monday morning. Except it isn’t 9.07, it’s 8.07. Or is that 10.07? I forget.

I’m completely disorientated. My brain keeps switching back and forth between the time it would have been two days ago, and the time it appears to be now.

That’s right, the clocks have changed. We’ve just started British Summer Time, having been on Greenwich Mean Time before that, also known as Coordinated Universal Time or Standard Time.

As a chronic insomniac, that can be pretty devastating for me. The one thing an insomniac needs is a routine. Break the routine and your sleep patterns disappear; lose your sleep patterns and your whole relationship to sleep crashes into a horrible mess. I can end up with days without a proper rest.

I write about it every year, but nothing changes. That’s when you learn how powerless you are. No matter how many words I expend on this issue, no matter how often I plead, no matter how many people read what I write, everything will just stay the same.

I don’t like it. You don’t like it. The Queen doesn’t like it. The Prime Minister doesn’t like it. Parliament doesn’t like it. The head of the armed forces doesn’t like it. The Metropolitan Police Commissioner doesn’t like it. Nobody likes it.

No one can give a reason for it. People mutter on about the First World War and Scottish farmers, as if that answers the question. But the First World War is long gone, and if Scottish farmers need to get up early, then why don’t they just get up early? Why does the whole country have to get up with them?

It’s one of the examples I give to illustrate just how insane our world is. Every one in the entire world hates this, no one can give a reason for it, and yet it continues, seemingly out of everyone’s control, and against everyone’s will.

It doesn’t help anyone, it leaves everyone disorientated. Even people with a normally relaxed relationship with sleep suffer a few days of mild confusion. No one quite knows where they are for a while. And yet we still do it, year after year.

In my more paranoid moments I think maybe it’s being done deliberately, in order to disorientate us, in order to remind us just how out of control we are.

It’s like a magic spell. Maybe it’s those black magicians in the Illuminati doing it in order to keep us perpetually enslaved to their false notion of time. If we don’t even have control over something as fundamental as time, then how can we function as free beings?

Maybe they will be privatising it next. Maybe they’ll start arbitrarily altering the time of day, as and when they choose. Maybe we’ll all have to take out Time Insurance in order to protect ourselves from the vicissitudes of time. They’ve privatised almost everything else, why not time?

Don’t answer that. I think I might be giving someone ideas.


  1. Unless you’re retired.
    Or self-employed.
    Or a hermit.
    Or if the dogs know the time you usually get up.
    I woke up at 10.33 this morning!
    I usually wake up or am woken up b m dogs at 8.30 a.m.
    I was excessively tired last night though, having worked in the garden at the weekend.
    If we’re left to our own devices, l think we find our own clocks.


  2. Bonkers indeed, and unless there is an organized well-funded campaign to change, it will just drag on. It’s as mad as the practice of throwing dead fish back into the ocean to conserve them, which took Sir Hugh’s 2 year campaign to at least get the EU to say they would change the legislation.


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