I know it was designed to help farmers or crop rotations or some such thing — I’m too tired to look it up — but I want my Daylight Savings hour back. Not in half a year, but now. I already have a drain on my precious sleep right now, thank you very much, albeit an admittedly cute one.
All you parents out there: Stop snickering. Yes, yes, I get it, you paid your dues and got your wings or whatever you want to call it while I was out staggering home from the bar. Would I be in a better situation if I’d settled down earlier in life? Maybe. No, scratch that. I don’t think so. I’m actually in better shape than I was a decade ago, and tired is tired.
Speaking of parents, it’s interesting how them being around makes us regress. La’s folks are staying with us for the week, and yesterday mine came up to visit, and we had all sorts of junk foods like potato chips and Dr Pepper floats, and then the guys watched college basketball all afternoon. I kicked my feet up, lay crosswise on one of the couches and split my time between basketball and the new Peter Straub novel. Felt like I was 13 again. Nary an organic vegetable in sight, nor anything more responsible than cooing over the Squish while he slept. Later, La and her dad giggled together over some sort of nature program.
That comes with a downside, of course, including a spat over plans my parents made for us next Saturday,when in fact that day was already full. I won’t apologize for jealously guarding my time away from the office.
I’m already down an hour, after all.
