Daylight savings offers nothing but false promises and dashed hopes. It gets you into this state of mind where the days go on forever – you can get home from work and go for a two-hour surf, then make a leisurely dinner and eat it in the backyard before the sun is halfway set.
Then, suddenly, it’s over, and you can only just squeeze in a post-work power walk around the block before darkness descends. Give it a month or so, when the days are becoming noticeably shorter, and you’re lucky to even make it home in daylight, let alone manage to spend any time outside before it’s pitch black.
Anyway, I’ve decided to prioritise getting outside for a half hour walk every day, even if I have to do it in the semi-dark evening chill. I can handle that, but what’s really untenable is finally getting into the house and realising I still have to make dinner, especially if I want to eat something hot (as you do in winter). As it stands, the most appealing option is nicking off with my housemate Christine’s jar of so-called healthy snacks for weight loss, then eating them in bed while binge watching Kleinfeld.
In an ideal world, I’d have a robot that can simultaneously make me a nutritionally balanced, calorie controlled meal, get the house warmed up and preferably take the bins out at the touch of a button. Even better, it would be programmed to make a start on these tasks before I even get home. Surely such a thing exists, in this day and age.
I’m aware that it’s possible to have healthy prepared meals delivered to one’s door, but it’s just not the same as a home-cooked dinner. Still, in the absence of a robot butler, I may have to settle for what I can get, without stooping to the level of munching stolen protein balls under my doona every night.