Daylight Savings, my pale, white tuckus!  Savings?  How are we “saving” if we’re subtracting an hour of sleep?  Sounds like somebody was sleeping during that math problem.  If there’s supposed to be savings, then why am I not getting a discount on my mortgage payment this weekend or getting a “get out of jail free” card to save my butt sometime?   The only real savings I could possibly get out of this would be if I went away for the weekend to “save” myself from listening to my husband complain about losing an hour of sleep!  I try to hide the weekend from him every year so I don’t have to be subjected to the pre-time change grumbling and the post-time change griping.  A man of routine does not like a time change, and neither does the woman who lives with him.  And I don’t know about you, but inevitably I hate the time change more as the week goes on.  I toss and turn and end up watching Chelsea Lately instead of snoring.  Then, in the morning, the snooze ends up getting a bunch of hits and I look a little rumpled when I do make it to work.   And by Friday, I’m cussing the time change as much as my husband.  Mmm…there’s something wrong with this picture.

Probably I wouldn’t be so anti-time change if the clock goddess existed.  Wouldn’t it be great if a goddess in a long golden Vera Wang showed up to handle things?  If only she or a Santa Claus-like character showed up to re-set all my clocks and put a new battery in my smoke detector and carbon monoxide tester.  How does such a small task seem so damn annoying?  Between the kitchen stove, the old VCR, your watch, and your alarm clock, does it feel like some giant pain-in-the-ass challenge at your house, too?  It seems like you suddenly have a million clocks in your house, right?  And, of course, there’s always that one clock that just never gets changed.  You keep meaning to, but it just doesn’t happen.  You’re in a hurry.  You forget about it.  You’re lazy and don’t want to do it, or is that just me?  Or maybe it’s your sneaky little trick you use as an excuse to have happy hour drinks according to the real time and again according to your clock.  (It’s 5 o’clock somewhere!)  Listen, I’m not above it.  If a dual happy hour makes your life a little better, go for it.  I’m not telling.

But I have to say I love it when people, in some form of personal protest, refuse to change the clock in their car because “they’re just going to have to switch it back in November”!  And it’s those same people who have their clocks set about 8 minutes fast to avoid being late to work.  So then you get to watch them do math and try to figure out what time it really is.  It’s only 68 minutes off!!  Or my other favorite is when you buy a clock that says it will re-set itself according to Daylight Savings time but then they switched up when Daylight Savings time started and so you change the time on your clock and a week later it does it again and then you look at the clock and think, “WTF?”  And then you have to go through the whole process again and at some point, you ponder finding a cave to live in instead.

Then there’s that whole Spring Forward, Fall Back phrase.  Don’t know who came up with that but I feel like it’s more “spring forward” in bed when the alarm goes off and “fall back” into bed wondering why the hell you have to get up now?  Boy, does that suck.  I need every sleeping moment I can get to keep the cranky monsters away.  Now, don’t get me wrong, I understand the need for Daylight Savings time.  After all, been there, done that and I’ve got the Proud to be a Farmer’s Daughter t-shirt to prove it.  Can’t imagine not being supportive of the farming community.  No offense guys, I just can’t keep myself from hating either the time change or my body for not accepting it well. 

But what the hell, Arizona?  No Daylight Savings Time for you?  Are you too good for us?  There’s always gotta be that one.  That one that has to be difficult and rebel against the machine.  Fine, go ahead, be snotty.  Be disrespectful to the farmers of America who grow the food that you eat because obviously you’re not growing shit down there on your desert land.  No, no, be that snotty cheerleader who looks pretty but is the selfish bitch with an air of entitlement.  Go ahead.  We won’t judge. (Well, really we will, but you won’t notice because you’re not that smart.  Whatevs.  You’ll get all ugly and wish for the old days at some point, and we’ll laugh to ourselves about it.) 

Guess the lack of sleep/time change doesn’t exactly bring out the best in me, now does it?  But whether it’s 10:30 or 11:30, I guess it’s just “time” for all of us to suck it up and get some sleep!  And if all else fails, break out the Nyquil!

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