One of the first objections Bella voiced to our move to Chicago was the time difference. She lifted her head, tears streaming down her face, and sobbed, "Everything will be so different! We won't even be the same time as our friends!" There was nothing funny about her pain, but I still struggled to contain my laughter. How much of a difference could one hour make?
One hour. Sixty minutes. 3600 seconds.
Turns out that hour does make a difference. Not a massive difference, but a difference nonetheless. I wake up and I feel behind, as though I overslept, and that feeling remains with me for the rest of the day. The time difference obviously doesn't affect us in our daily schedule; doesn't make us late for school or work. But it does make us reach for the phone to call people on the East Coast at the wrong time, makes me miss lunch without noticing, and makes TV shows not appear when I expect them. Little things, all of them, but they keep me feeling just a little bit left of center, continually jet-lagged.
Will I get used to the Central Time zone? Or is this just proof that I'm a New Yorker for life. Only time will tell.
1 comments:
Well, as an East Coast native, I can relate to this problem. My family in DC and New York, still can't quite get that we are an hour behind them. Sports fans, like my husband, love it because it means their favorite games end a lot earlier.
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