I am on the bus, trying to type on a netbook that is rising and falling gently in time with my panting, and it’s bloody dark.
My mind and body refused resolutely to go to sleep at eleven last night, obstinately and admittedly correctly pointing out that this was not the hour at which they usually went to sleep. They pointed to something called circadian rhythms, I pointed to the clock radio. They pointed to the fact that the clock radio is old enough to have Roman numerals, I pointed to something called Daylight Saving Time, and that we would be getting up earlier too. They asked was I mad, then apologised for bringing that up.
They were sent to bed at eleven anyway, since I am notionally in charge (kind of like with the Tinkids), but took their revenge by remaining awake, not just until twelve, but until well after that. They then gleefully nudged me awake every ten minutes or so throughout the night, saying “don’t you have to get up earlier?”
And I did get up on time, in fact at 6.24, a minute before the alarm should have gone off. I stumbled out to the bathroom and, for the first time in a couple of weeks, had to turn on the light. My mind and body were not impressed (“Daylight Saving Time my arse”, I heard part of me mutter, quite possibly my arse).
I tried to be quick. I suspected that the bus might be early, since I figured many of the usual passengers from earlier stops might not have the same control over their mind and body as I have (I had to fight my fingers to type that sentence), so I resolved to leave the house on time. But things like putting on my trousers or recognising which of the 22 toothbrushes in the bathroom was mine (there are only 5 of us, who owns the others?) seemed much harder this morning, so I left the house a couple of minutes later than usual, the bus was indeed slightly early and I caught only it only by racing to the stop and banging on the door just as it was about to drive off.
The panting has pretty much stopped now, but I suspect my body is not speaking to me (my mind hasn’t really spoken to me since the derealisation started) and I feel like all of the Numskulls (none of you probably remember them, from the Beano) have gone on a work to rule.
The saying may well be “Spring Forward”, but I have definitely fallen back.