Thursday, April 10, 2008
grass and dew at sunrise
Finally, only 40 or so minutes late, we got into the car and young M said, "Oh, hey, we're not even late. Look, it's 8:15."
"No it isn't," I said, "That clock is an hour slow and ten minutes fast. It's actually 9:05."
"What?" said young M, "What do you mean an hour slow and ten minutes fast? Who thinks like that?"
"It's easier," I said, "Than subtracting 50 minutes."
And it is, I swear, and I should know, because I live like this for half a year, every year, and have since I got this car ten years ago because I just can't be bothered to find the car book. I know that if I found the book (which is almost certainly under one of the front seats) I could change the time and it would be humiliatingly easy, like it would take forty seconds or so to do the blindingly obvious steps to change the time but I cannot do it without the book and so, in the name of laziness, I just add an hour and subtract ten minutes to the time and pretend that it's the easiest way to go. Being lazy is seriously hard work sometimes.