Today was the “good” time change—the one that theoretically gives us a free hour. Sadly, I was up and getting out of bed at 6am. Not cool at all. This has always been the Sunday when you can sleep until a decadent 9am and get up only to find it’s really only 8am. Yay!

But I woke up, coughing and a little stuffy, at 6am. Having several month’s experience now with what a finicky little device the BlackBerry Curve is, I picked it up to see if it made the time change smoothly, or if it was freaking out and waiting for a battery pull.

It was fine, but my picking up the phone signaled to the stupid dog that it was time to jump off the bed and go downstairs. (My alarm goes off at 6 during the week, so when I pick up the phone to shut it off, it’s time to get up.) So now I’m stuffy and can’t go back to sleep and the dog’s running amok, but I know if I go back to sleep, she’s going to start scratching at the edge of the mattress, begging to be picked back up. Gah!

So on the one day you can sleep in guilt-free, I was up at six. Boo. The Short Kid came down just shy of eight, with the husband following a few minutes after. Must be nice to be them. Hmph.

All of the gadgets and toys seemed to have survived the time shift. Our iHomes and my under-the-counter CD player have DST switches, so they’re easy to change. One wall clock, Mr S’s alarm clock, the coffeemaker, microwave, stove, then vehicle clocks and we should be good to go!