I’m much beleaguered by the time-pieces that an ode or an elegy would not be out of question. ‘Why? It’s just a clock which tells time’, you may ask. And, I would reply, “Nothing, my dear friend, is just a anything".
Now, the clock in my bedroom is an hour ahead. This I lay entirely upon the individuals who decided that the clock must be set ahead in Spring and set back in Autumn by an hour. This Autumn, we couldn’t reach the clock (or weren’t inclined to reach), thus it runs an hour ahead.
The clock in living room (is thankfully within reach and thus was adjusted), runs exactly two minutes fast. This is to account for the time required to hunt the remote, find a spot on the sofa and shush the child before the program on the T.V starts.
The cars are a different story all together. My husband has set his five minutes fast and I have set mine ten. He is calculating for catching a bus while I’m planning for rush-hour traffic.
So, my Dear Readers, here is what a typical morning for me is like: I wake up and go into a panic mode: “It’s 7:30, I can’t believe I over slept!” Then a moment later, reality checks in- “it’s only 6:30, and I’m right on time”. So, get ready and rush out, I immediately subtract 2 minutes from the living room clock. As I’m make breakfast, (the kitchen digital is correct time by the way) and shuttle between kitchen and living room, I add and subtract 2.
Then the car. It takes a few seconds to recollect which car I’m driving (mine) and subtract some more accordingly (10). At the daycare, sane, boring people that they are, have set the clock to the right time. I roll my else at them and reach the car. As I elbow my way through the jam-packed streets, I throw a harried glace at the clock and it's 9. I get to think, "9? It's actually 8:50 then. I still have ten minutes. If only that truck would get out of my way!"
Both our phones, however, show the right time. Probably because we haven’t yet figured out how to fiddle with it yet.