Friday, October 29, 2010
clocks going back
The weekend I've been dreading since moving to Britain has arrived.
Make no mistake, I'm back in the land of crumpets, Downing Street, normal sized-portions, and am very happy to be home.
Save for one little annoyance.
On Sunday evening the clocks go back an hour. We lose an hour of daylight.
As a South African, I've dreaded this day since I arrived in July.
This officially signifies the official end of the British summer. This alone is ridonkulous, because the British summer is a distant memory. I no longer sit in my garden to drink my tea, if you get my drift.
My question is why? Who thought it would be a good idea to make winter even more dark than it already is? To shut off natural light by making sure the sun sets even earlier than normal - "I say Barnaby, let's gently fuck with everyone."
I don't know who Barnaby is, or who I quoted above. I'm just thinking of a pompous dicktard who made the Clock Moving law.
I've been fearing the experience of a full English winter, and the clock change is at the pinnacle of this fear. As my gay friend says, "Who needs a period when you have seasonal depression?"
(You don't get a period dude. You may be a bitch, but biologically speaking, you're still a guy.)
When the clocks turn back, everything is but shrouded in darkness. One would think Britain sits on the polar caps, but from Monday morning onwards I'll be arriving and leaving work in the dark.
Good times. If you sleep in a coffin and come out to drink blood from a human throat.
My colleague put the fear of God into me when he said, Basically Peas, you won't see light from now until March.
Another mate said to me when I arrived back from San Francisco, and I was commenting on the grey and drizzle in between reverse-jetlag, "You ain't seen nothing yet. It's about to get a whole lot worse."
Is it really that bad? But really though?
I'm a good hibernator. I can really knuckle down and lie on the couch in my pj's if I need to. I can embrace home-dwellage like a queen. I did it back in South Africa with particular panache.
But until March?
PS: I'm jetlagged to boot. I want to cry a little and then stuff my face with crumpets.