Living Clock Controversy

by Penny M

clock smiling face animated clipart

So what time is bedtime?

I love my sleep, especially when it sinks into that deep rest where dreams happen and active participation requires no effort.

I’ve found in my travels that my system has its own clock which ticks at mealtimes, ablution times etcetera.  That’s why there is more to switching time zones than a bit of jet lag.

I’m having supper when my family in Australia is having breakfast, so lunch for me there is a skippable meal until mid-afternoon and supper is an uncomfortably early breakfast.

Some people stay on their work clock even when they’ve retired.  That would be perfect if I was a morning person.  Days are so much longer when you are up before the sun; I would get up if I had to and make use of those extra hours, but I don’t.

Actually, when it comes to somebody else’s time values, life can be tricky.  I pretty much push the boundaries on this one.  You can go to bed at the same time, but do you have to go to sleep?  If you don’t shut those lids until two hours later because, let’s face it, there are distractions, rising with a foreigner’s alarm pushes the old ticker into overdrive.  Lids defy eyeballs, especially if wine was the drink of choice with dinner the previous evening.

Did I miss out on my beauty sleep?  Well, if the standard requirement is eight hours*, the answer to that is no (by the time I have got my eyes in focus).  However, retinal streaming is interrupted prematurely leaving me with stories chasing endings and issues without solutions.  Breakfast could wait for a couple of hour glasses if we had them.

I know what you’re thinking – if I went to bed earlier more often, my system might adapt to birdsong and a morning cuppa. girl stretching in bed wakeup in the morningBut hey, who can retire this early for so long?  I may as well enjoy it until the rat race shakes me into the real world.




by Penny M

What day is it?

Okay, so it might have something to do with the fact that I have woken up after a door to door, twenty-six hour journey that ended yesterday evening.

The beginnings of my other blog started in Dubai Airport, until a fellow traveller interrupted my thoughts to tell me of her journey to India (a two and a half hour flight away!). She painted a picture from the Exotic Marigold Hotel. I was glad I had watched that movie, twice in fact, and so could well imagine her delight. But the blog stopped there. - Ambro – Ambro

I woke this morning with a movie in my head and a strong desire to capture it before it escaped my memory. I had no idea of the time – my mobile phone had somehow adjusted to Abu Dhabi time and I could possibly have slept for two days, without alarm.

I literally closed my eyes and typed what I saw in my imagination. Never mind the typos, the structure and whatever else good writers are supposed to control, I was on a roll and in the role of my life.

I had to go online to establish that it was GMT +2 on Thursday, 16 October. This was the time on my laptop which I had a hard time believing. It was 09.56 a.m. Forgive me – my blog is late, I think.

So, before I lose the emotions involved with the creation of my movie script …