An early morning start

Kate Giles
Everything takes so much longer to do because I have a vision impairment. So planning is important. I was meeting people for a morning coffee. I was up early as usual but it appeared darker than normal outside. It was strange there was no one at the bus stop. Things also seemed a bit strange when I arrived in town. The sign on the chemist door said the store opened at 8am. But the shop was closed. And then I realised. I had read the time incorrectly at home. Now I have a gigantic new clock keeping me on time.
Posted by: 
Kate Giles on 17/07/2012
A wall clock with large hands and numbers
wall clock

I now have a gigantic wall clock.

I looked at the clock. Good grief! Is that the time? I had better get myself out of here or I'll never catch that bus. I didn't want to miss morning coffee with my support group.

Early morning

It had been a very early morning start. Most mornings are. Everything takes so much longer to do when you have vision loss. But I know the more time I allow, the less stressed I am. And that's important.


Planning is also important. My clothes had been sorted, checked and laid out the night before. As far as I could see they were clean and ironed. My backpack was also ready to go.

So far, my early start had paid off. I was able to prepare some letters to post. I even had time to respond to some emails. But somehow time had gotten away. I needed to hurry.

So with cane in hand, I headed out the door.

Darker than normal

It seemed darker than normal. But then, I remember hearing rain during the night. And some of these winter mornings are quite gloomy. My new polarized sunglasses are a treat when the sun is shining, But in-between times, everything seems so much darker. And the sun definitely wasn't shining this morning.

The bus stop appeared deserted. There are usually a few more people here at this time. Maybe the rain has kept them away, I told myself. There wasn't a lot of traffic around either. Could be the kids have a day off school?

But then I was quite surprised to see more people on the bus than usual. I struggled to find a seat.


Things still seemed a bit strange when I arrived in town. My planning had left time to drop a prescription into the chemist. For reasons unknown, the chemist was closed. Even the coffee shops were not yet opened.

How odd? I thought to myself. I decided to go to the ATM and withdraw some money while it was quiet and I wouldn't be rushed.

I now headed back to the chemist. The sign on the door said Open from 8am until 8pm, 7 days a week.

Eyes playing tricks

I looked at my watch. I looked again. Were my eyes playing tricks on me? It read 7.50am. I took out my magnifying glass. My watch still said 7.50am.

One of the coffee shops nearby was just opening for business. I ordered a hot chocolate, took a seat and pondered over what had just happened.

A new dawning

Then like the break of day it dawned on me. This morning I had quickly glanced at the clock. Something told me it was time to leave for the bus. Was it really my eyes or was it lack of focus? I wasn't sure. I only knew that I was exceptionally early. And I was feeling a tad silly. I wondered whether to tell the others of my early morning stuff up. Maybe I would just wait and see. And wait I did, for two whole hours.

As everyone discussed their trials and tribulations for the week, my early morning departure was the butt of many jokes. It was also suggested it was time to invest in a talking clock. But I'm not ready for that just yet.

I now have a new, gigantic wall clock. It has huge black numbering on a gleaming white face. I swear that face smiles at me every time I look at it. But so far it has kept me on time.

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