It has become almost a daily routine for me. I hear the buzzing in my ear but my conscious thoughts cannot come to terms with the reality of the situation. I swat at what I hear to be a bee, or dodge what sounds like a semi in reverse. Some mornings it’s music rather than the obnoxious beeping, and I dream of being at a concert with all my friends. But then I’m hit with a realization that hurts worse than being mauled by the truck or stung by that bee over a hundred times. I jump into the air and out of bed; I realize its Monday morning.

Not only is it Monday morning, but also the clock reads 6:58 AM. As I wipe my eyes my mind has yet to process the fact that I have two minutes to get out the door if I want to make it to school in time. It’s either leave then, or face the wrath of Mr. Lily as he makes a second trip to reopen the North gate for the girl who is late. The girl who is late for the fourth Monday this month I might add.

I can’t remember a time when I moved faster than I am this morning. Being the type of girl who spends over an hour getting ready in the morning, getting ready in two minutes is nearly impossible. I had to do it though so I grabbed a sweatshirt, brushed my teeth, put my hair in a ponytail and headed out the door, already thinking of ways to avoid that cute boy at school today. There was no way I was letting him see me like this.

If I wasn’t held liable to this document, I would admit to speeding to school, but regardless, I got to school as fast as possible. Of course, it always seems that on the mornings I am running late, it seems as if everyone else has decided to simply meander slowly and congest the roadways. It’s as if they don’t realize I woke up late this morning; Don’t they know I’m in a hurry? I turn down Halifax and finally break away from the pack of cars on Granada. I let out a sigh of relief because according to my car clock, I’m only five minutes late; Mr.Lily shouldn’t be too upset. Pulling up to school though made me double check myself.

As I pull up to the North parking lot gate, I realize that something isn’t right. What could explain the fact that only four cars were in the faculty lot and no students had arrived yet? My mind first assumed that maybe everyone were late, but that idea was quickly shot down when I thought of all my over-achiever friends who show up to school early to squeeze in extra studying or conversing with teachers. I dug through my purse frantically for my phone. I had to call Vania; I am sure she’ll know what is going on. Before I even had a chance to call her, my phone answered all my questions. The time on my phone was an hour earlier than what my car and alarm clock read and I am now sitting in front of my high school an hour early. I forgot all about he time change the night before but that makes sense now why my alarm hadn’t gone off. It was set for an hour later, which means I still have a good half an hour before it rings again. I’m still deciding if Daylight savings was good because I wasn’t actually late, or if it was bad because I lost an hour of sleep and stressed out for no reason. Either way, I was on time, an hour early to be exact.