I am from Arizona, one of only two states that finds it necessary to rebel against centralized government by refusing to accept that most ominous and threatening of specters: daylight savings time. Despite a complete lack of logical evidence to support this claim, I think my persistent tardiness in nearly all facets of my life connects directly back to the off-kilter timing of my Southwestern roots. It definitely has nothing to do with my procrastination habits or my love of sleep or my "West Wing" addiction. Nothing. If anything, coming to Dartmouth has made it worse, because I am now part of a culture where being on time is the exception, not the rule. Rare is the professor that bats an eye at a student bursting in 15 minutes late. On a campus where the average distance between locations is (by my completely non-scientific estimations) one-tenth of a mile, meetings never start on time and the wait at KAF is eight people deep just moments before the start of 10as. What are we doing? Why are we always late, and why are we so okay with it? In life, timing is everything, so what does it mean that Dartmouth's is so persistently off? Think about how you feel when you're that one person on time, holding down a Novack table and waiting in irritation for the rest of your groupmates to finally show up. Let's take a second (pun intended) to consider where the days go, and maybe use our watches as more than stylish accent pieces. Happy well-timed Friday!
Editor's Note
