One

Monday, 27 December 1999
The Netherlands are cold. The trees are bare and grey. Winter has started, at the very darkest point of the year. The sun rises a few hours before noon and starts setting just after lunch. Dusk begins at four. At five it is night again. Days are short. These lowlands are much too close to the polar circle. Sigh, if only I could be at Fraser's Hill.

With great melancholy I look back at my time as tele worker, just a couple of weeks ago. In those days, the sun made my rhythm. I used to wake up at sunrise, put on a shirt, enjoyed a excellent breakfast, made a jar of coffee, lodged myself in front of the window with my lap top and happily started work. The clock time was completely irrelevant to me. This year, the end of daylight saving time was a completely unnoticed event, and that is the way I like it.

But... wake up in the dark Since a couple of weeks I get rudely awaked by loud noise, get up tired, fumble in the dark for a business shirt and tie, shield myself with winter coat and gloves and throw my self into the grey mob that call's itself the morning rush hour. The time of the clock controls my life, and I don't like it at all.

Leave in the morning darkness, work in artificial light, and get home again in the evening darkness. Work weeks pass like one long night. Woe is me, if all weekend is clouded. I'll live in one consecutive darkness for at least 12 days. My mood is not up to such bombardment of misery, and goes down with the temperature, heading for a winter depression. Yeah, a total dejection takes control of me.

Thank goodness there is only one shortest day. Off all days, I saw the light on this very shortest day of the year. The solution was so obvious that I overlooked it: the new daylight saving time.

The winter sun wakes me up Yes, I'm back into my old rhythm. As soon as the sun rises, I'll wake up, iron a shirt, enjoy breakfast, follow the rush hour trail in all tranquillity towards the office, get a fresh coffee and happily start working. At my time of entry, the rest of the crowd has been busy for hours. But so what? To me, the day just started. Well, only one can be last, and that's the Nut himself.

In the evening I go home in the dark. So what, the sun has been gone for hours already.

In about twelve months, you'll have the last Nut of this century. I end now with my new daylight saving time. Only one Nut can be the last of the year, and that's this one.

Till next week!
Nut