The Consolation of Winter

I was really angry with myself yesterday for a few reasons. The chief reason being that I completely missed the ending of daylight savings. I look forward to this time of year like most people look forward to Christmas. It isn’t that I don’t like daylight. I am a fan of the sun. Not that much of a fan since I have a delicate complexion and very sensitive eyes. But I don’t begrudge him his time to shine. The reason I love daylight savings is because of the glorious extra hour of sleep. It isn’t just the extra hour. It is the anticipation. It is knowing all day that I get to set my clock one hour earlier. It makes me giddy. It makes me feel all warm and cuddly. I almost always stay up an extra hour or two completely defeating the purpose. But when I wake up the next morning, it feels lovely. This year, in my state of funemployment, I tend lose track of the date and normal cycle of life. Completely missed the daylight savings. I had one alarm go off and then thinking I had slept in until 10, my phone alarm went off alerting me that it was in fact 9 am. I was confused for a moment. And then it occurred to me. I had missed my favorite holiday. It was just an ordinary Saturday night. Broke my heart a little.

Last night as I was falling asleep, taking stock of my day worrying about tomorrow, I interrupted my personal scolding to realize why I enjoy colder weather. Not arctic cold, just crispy cold. I had added a blanket underneath my comforter. Under the weight of my jersey sheets, blanket, and down comforter, I was gloriously replete. When I woke up in the night to use the bathroom (a nightly curse), I snuggled back into my den of hibernation. I sleep better with heavy blankets. I don’t know why. Maybe it is where I register on the autism scale. But the blankets, the weight, the cavern of warmth, this is my consolation. So I missed my favorite day of the year and my silly excitement over the time change. I had weight to comfort me as I slept.