Time seemed to fall away from me during my trip to Ireland. As I traveled there I flew back in time and flew forward in time, in turn never really knowing what time it was. Plus I was always calculating what time it was at home.
In talking to Katie I quickly found out that the Irish have similar view on time as Moroccans do. Being late is not seen as rude and they aren't constantly starting at clocks. On our first day when we rented a car to go to the Cliffs of Moher I had almost no idea what time it was all day. Our car clock was set on the 24-hour format and even though I am able to read time that way, it still took a little more brain power than I cared to give. As we enjoyed our time at the cliffs I didn't care what time it was. Our car didn't have to be back until the next morning. We told time based on the sun. We stayed just as long enough as we had daylight.
My cell phone didn't have service so I ever was able to use it to tell time. However, one morning I needed to use it for an alarm. When setting it I realized it was only a couple hours ahead of the time on the phone. Katie and I figured out that since I needed to be up in eight hours I should set the alarm eight hours ahead of the time the clock showed. I set the clock for one p.m. really hoping to get up at 7:30 a.m. I went to bed hoping my simple math wouldn't let me down.
Since I've returned home I've found myself waking up at four and five a.m. ready to get up. And wanting to hit the sack at eight or nine p.m. Time proves to be a funny thing when we are forced to try and manipulate it like this.