I don’t know whether I posted about Daylight Savings Time (DST) in the past or whether I just have the same rant in the Real World, but have never posted it. For the first few days in the Spring, it feels like my butt has been kicked by the biggest bully in the schoolyard.
Then it settles down. My circadian rhythm adapts (As a hopeless and hapless White Guy, it’s the only rhythm I have.), and I cruise right along after that, until the Summer heat grinds me like a nutmeg over egg nog.
Today, I had some energy in the morning, cleaned the bath tub, did laundry. I went to visit my sponsee S. He had fallen behind on his shower-taking obligation. Body odor combined with the smell of Renuzit cone air freshener, the kind you smell in the nastiest of service station restrooms, was sending me into olfactory freak out. I came home for a lunch and, as the day progressed, felt my energy reserves dissipate.
So I’m watching trains now. J is watching Part One of the season finale of The Bachelor. I will go up when it’s over. A Southbound Amtrak, which terminates in Richmond is about to stop in Ashland. It is running late. In a few minutes #97.The Silver Meteor will pass through on the way to Miami tomorrow sometimes. I love trains. I only wish glamorous movie stars like William Powell and Myrna Loy, still climbed off at the Old Penn Station in New York.
You almost got the full 1930’s Nostalgia rant. I will save that for later.