(Because we live in Alaska now and must eat salmon. It’s the law or something.)
Anyways I cooked the fish in the oven and then some fried rice on the stove to go with it. But my husband was late getting home from work and I needed to leave. I wasn’t sure if the salmon was done all the way yet, but I thought it probably was. I decided to switch off the oven.
I got GG, my sixteen-year-old, to watch the twins for me. I told her to tell her dad to serve up dinner when he got home. Then I told her that there was salmon in the oven and to get her dad to check it and make sure it was done.
When I got home from choir practice about two hours later, I could immediately smell the cooked salmon when I came into the house.
I asked my husband, “How was the fish?”
He said, “What fish?”
I looked at him. “The fish I made for dinner. Didn’t you eat dinner?”
He looked confused. “Yeah,” he said. “I ate the food you left on the stove.”
I said, “What about the fish? Didn’t you eat the fish?”
“Do you mean some kind of metaphorical fish?” he said. “Because there was no fish on the stove. What fish are you talking about?”
I went to the kitchen and looked in the oven. The fish was still in there, kind of dried and blackened. I took it out without a potholder, since I certainly didn’t need one now. “This fish! This fish I made for you!” I yelled.
“I didn’t know there was fish in there,” he said.
“You didn’t notice that the whole house smells like fish?” I said. “And GG was supposed to tell you to check on it!”
He said, “Well, she didn’t.”
We both looked at GG, sitting on the couch texting and ignoring us. She looked up and saw the ruined pan of fish in my hand.
“Oh,” she said. “I wondered why the house smelled like fish.”
I hate Daylight Savings Time. I really do. It’s especially annoying to me now, because I recently spent six years on an island where we didn’t use DST.
That’s right. Hawaii doesn’t observe Daylight Savings Time. (Just ONE of the reasons it’s called paradise there.)
Yeah. We LEFT THE CLOCKS ALONE ALL YEAR. What a concept! And guess what? The amount of daylight did not change. TIME was neither saved nor lost.
But now I’m back in the real USA I suppose, where we have to observe ridiculous conventions like DST. Ugh. But of course, there is the ONE good thing about observing the time change: in the fall when you get that “extra hour” of sleep. Right?
But this year I managed to wreck that one positive thing for my family by scheduling a PLANE TRIP during that time. Oh yeah. So we got to actually EXPERIENCE the time change in all its glory.
There we were, sitting on an airplane at one a.m., not sleeping. An hour later… BOOM! The time changed! And we were still sitting on an airplane at one a.m., not sleeping.
I mean, THAT was just cruel and unusual punishment right there!
So now I can say I’ve truly LIVED THROUGH that repeated hour in the fall time change, and let me tell you: It’s AWFUL!!
So why do we DO this? Why do we move the clock around a couple of times a year just to mess with everything? I’ll tell you why: For NO REASON.
I’ve seen that hour from one a.m. to two a.m. and it’s NOT WORTH LIVING THROUGH TWICE. (Even if you’re asleep, because you’re just going to have to lose that hour of sleep again in the spring, you know!)
News flash: Hey DST? We’re not saving anything! Not daylight, not time, and definitely not my sanity!