It was 11:40pm on a Friday, and my husband and I were working on our computers a couple meters apart from each other. This is the usual sighting in our house every night… when he suddenly says: “it’s Friday already?!” to which I responded: “it’s the end of Friday.” Technically, in about 20minutes, it was going to be Saturday already. But he said: “I don’t think you get it, we live in different time zones.” and I said: “I get it, I just forget.”
He is a computer programmer, and all of his clients are in the U.S. He begins work around 9:30 pm Indian Time (9 am US Pacific Time) and, lately, has been going to bed around 4 am. It varies. (He also does some work scattered throughout the day.) Because of this difference, he wakes up 1-3 hours after I do. (I go to bed pretty late, 2 am last night.)
His weekend in India begins Saturday morning and ends Monday night before bed, when work starts again.
So in all these ways, he lives in a different time zone than me. But last night I decided that I like his time zone better because during this time there is no one coming to our house. Every single day we have people come to our house unannounced many times a day, and it is also quieter outside, except two nights ago when neighbors were playing music with a megaphone microphone until 2 am.
I think that was my fault because earlier that day when Josh and I were taking a walk and there was music playing at a nearby temple, I said more than once: “I’m glad they don’t play music near our house.”
So I totally jinxed it.