So I says to Mabel I says: Going to work in the dark and leaving work in the dark is definitely a bit crap.
I find myself heading out at lunch time, just to breathe some fresh air, (fresh life!) into my lungs and bask in the limited-time-only daylight that seems to be available only between the hours of ten in the morning until two in the afternoon.
Working within this time frame makes me thing that whoever in charge of allotting Vancouver’s daily sunlight ration must also be affiliated with the Swiss consulate (as they seem to keep the same hours.)
It’s quite a trip looking out the window as I exit my office building and see the moon, shining down on myself and all the other commuters at 4:26 in the afternoon. It makes me want to yell out: “JUST BECAUSE I LIKE THEM, DOESN’T MEAN I EVER AGREED TO LIVING INSIDE A PHILLIP K. DICK NOVEL!!!”
COME ON.
(Or Heinlein, or Asimov, or Herbert, or – okay hopefully you get my drift).
The one plus to this perpetual darkness? The view walking to transit in the morning can be utterly breathtaking. The sky is engulfed by a brilliant mosaic of blues, and greens and oranges and purples – like the most beautiful bruise you have ever seen – and Mount Baker stands stark, back lit, like an American Mount Doom, looming in the foreground.
One view to rule them all. One view to find them.
[Please sir – may I be an elf?]
Okay, in all honesty I really shouldn’t gripe.
There is something almost romantic to getting up, and getting out, in the early a.m.
The world is quiet, still.
Because it is so early, each person who is up, are themselves quiet. Although they move, they exude, are even defined by, a pristine stillness, becalmed by the early hour.
We are awake, but are still, very slowly coming alive – stretching our arms, wiping away the sleepy cobwebs in tandem with the molasses-slow sunrise as it heralds the official break of day.
Standing on the metro platform, our breath is a thick fog that hangs suspended in the morning chill; no one talks, no one looks at each other.
We are like living statues, meditating on the start of the day (or perhaps just counting down the minutes until hot java will surge through our system and jolt our brains into activity.)
I actually don’t understand those who prefer waking up later and therefore staying at work later – why would anyone want to leave work at a time when it doesn’t just look like night, it actually is night time?
Blargh.
Even if the daylight has faded, I would prefer to have the afternoon and evening to myself – go to the gym, prepare dinner, read, spend time with my husband and cat, go for a walk, watch a movie – all in the same night if need be.
I can’t imagine accomplishing any of these things, let along all of them, if I was leaving work after eight o’clock at night.
Plus I really hate doing laundry anytime after seven o’clock – eight MAYBE if I’m really pushing it.. I get this crazy anxiety that the clothes won’t have time to dry properly and everything will end up moldy and smelling like the boot bin at one of the Annapolis valley Frenchies.
(a.k.a. THE WORST EVER.)
Also, I am paranoid about the neighbours having a conniption about the late hour of these washing exploits.
Having worked shift work for two years, I am familiar with very early mornings and very late nights (that I suppose should also be classified as early mornings.) I know about sleepiness on both ends of the tired spectrum and I promise you, that if I was forced to chose between the two, I would pick early mornings ten times out of ten.
So Mr. Morning Sauron! Bring on the 6 a.m. starts!
I’ll name my first child little Vanilla Bean Gamgee if need be.
…
Rant and Roll 