Sunday night we spent our first worknight in the new house. We set up our mattress and bamboo platform in one of the smaller [cleaner] guest bedrooms–the one with the two windows in the corner that, in the darkness, frame the tree limbs outside in just a way to make the backyard look like a curtain of lace.
We set Jeremy’s phone as an alarm, the way we always do. Since we’ve moved some seven miles west, we adjusted our wake-up time to accomdate the extra time we might spend in traffic. Jeremy actually wouldn’t have to leave much earlier to be at work at 7:20, but I was expecting to leave an hour earlier than my required time to be in, which made it a half-hour earlier than when I typically leave in order to be there at 8:00.
We woke up at six and braved the freezing world out from under the blankets (we have no filter yet for the heater, so can’t run it). We have no blinds for the windows yet, so while I was surprised that the world was rather light for maybe 6:30 or 6:45, I imagined it was because I wasn’t used to open windows.
I asked Jeremy the time, and he said 6:51. I put on my shoes and picked up my purse, checking to make sure my phone was inside.
It was…and it said 7:51.
Then commenced the wild thrashing about the house to find the true time, the realization that Jeremy’s phone had reset itself in anticipation of the time change that had been moved to the next week, and the immediate driving to our respective workplaces while simultaneously calling to let them know how our timepieces had betrayed us.