Time Zones

The weirdest thing about moving back West is the time zone adjustment. By the time we get the kids to bed and settle down for the night it's way after midnight in the East, so any articles posted won't be read by the majority of readers (all 2 of you) until tomorrow morning, and by then many of the eastern bloggers have already posted their entries and moved on into the real world (I assume most of them have jobs...) and I feel like I'm showing up late to a party that's already winding itself down.

When I originally moved to Ontario in 1994, my new eastern time zone boss was fond of saying that we would deal with all the problems before head office (which was in the west) turned on the lights. He was kinda right.

At the time I was a big hockey fan and thought that the Pacific time zone was better: I'd get to watch the eastern hockey game from 4 to 7 over dinner, and if there was a western game, it'd be over by 10 or 11 leaving a good 3 to 4 hours of hardcore Saturday night binge drinking. When I moved east, all of a sudden the western game stretched on to 1:30 in the morning. Suddenly not worth it anymore.

But in 1994 it was a moot point: the league was having a strike or lockout - I can't remember which, but the result was the same. When they all came back I could no longer watch 6 straight hours of hockey anymore. I didn't really care about every game anymore.

Who knows. Maybe the upcoming strike might finish my taste for NHL hockey altogether. But I digress.

Coming back into the Pacific time zone is also harder because of our wonderful satellite dish. With all those eastern channels being fed into our living room, prime viewing begins at 5 in the afternoon. How weird is that?

I guess, like any change, it's all a matter of getting used to it.