I had a weird moment this morning, where I was entertaining the notion that time itself had ceased.
I utilise a two-alarm system, the first, with classical tones, wakes me up, but with the knowledge that I don't have to get out of my warm toasty Sarah-pie just quite yet.
I then have 30 minutes to snooze and think about thinking about planning my day, so when the second alarm goes off, this time in more urgent, excited tones, I am reasonably happy to get out of bed.
Thus: I am not a filthy angry she-beast every morning.
This morning, however, I was convinced vast amounts of time had passed, the second alarm had not rung and I was to be forever stuck in a no-longer-spinning world. I was quite distressed that the earth had chosen to stop spinning with Dunedin pointing at early morning - one of the coldest, stupidest times to be conscious in this fair city.
I started planning how many clothes we would all have to wear to keep warm (see, even in apocalyptic moments, I worry that you have a jersey on) and then I baffled myself with the question as to weather the power would continue to be manufactured. Would wind currents and thus wind farms cease to work on a stationary earth?
Today - I find out.
Just in case tomorrow morning we do find ourselves perpetually looking at half 6 am, forever after.