I woke up Sunday, glanced at the time on my iPhone charging at my bedside, and thought, whoa! I slept in. Great.
I logged into my zoom meet up with my colleague.
9:02
I rush to refill my cup of coffee.
Back. No one there.
Hmm. Probably on her way.
I start a letter while I’m waiting and think of the idea of how I use “edge time,” squeezing things in during wait times. I continue writing and keep glancing up, looking for the waiting room signal to flash on the screen.
I check the time, 9:15.
No Michelle.
I text, “hey, am I in the right place? time? “
I take another sip of coffee and continue my letter.
As I start my third page, I get worried.
Maybe something’s wrong. I text, “you ok?”
I consider driving over.
Interestingly, I never think of calling.
And finally, a text back, “Oh s….! I totally forgot the time change. I’ll be right there!”
Wait. Time change?
I look at my computer, my Apple watch, my iPhone. All confirming the time 9:25. And I panic. What time is it? Really?
All of my devices put me on the correct time without my knowledge. On the one hand, that’s good. I wasn’t late. But actually, it is disturbing. I think back to my text, am I in the right place? time? The devices changed without my knowledge. My stove and car are the only devices in my life that have a clock that I control.
Before I start railing at the horrors of technology, I take a step back. This is not about technology, it’s about my awareness. And, it’s about how much time rules the way I move in the world.
After my zoom, I walk to the kitchen stove and take comfort in thinking I can control time.
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