I'm quite glad the clocks go back tonight.
The plan had been for us to by now be pleasantly settled in central Scotland for a week of visiting friends. The weather, in its interaction with ferry services, decreed otherwise. Now we're (hopefully) on a boat at half seven in the morning. Getting a spot on that boat entails being at the port as early as possible — hence my eager anticipation of that extra hour.
We called down to the port this afternoon to check out which sailing we'd have the best chance of getting on. The young lady behind the desk was on the receiving end of some astonishing abuse, as if the delays and cancellations were down to her whim rather than that of the wind. She looked quite relieved when I was perfectly happy to go away and come back tomorrow.
I appreciate the frustration of not knowing when you'll get home, but why take it out on the messenger? To her credit, she remained calm and civil throughout. Me, I'm happy to be sure the weather isn't too much for the boat I'm riding.
Do me a favour: play nice out there.