Daylight Saving Time is a thing nobody likes and yet even with members of Congress trying to get rid of it, it seems we're all stuck with this pointless practice of recalibrating our goddamn clocks every March and October and spending a few days after each change disoriented and sleep deprived.
Well, you know what? I'm out. Fuck Daylight Saving Time. I'm not doing it anymore, whether this is the last year we have to or not.
I'm not alone. 19 states are trying to get out of this time-warp hellscape, enacting legislation that would make DST permanent. That's still not great, though; the reasons for DST in the first place were suspect and stretching the day artificially is bad for all of us. The two states that currently opt out of DST, Hawaii and Arizona, have got it right; doing away with DST got them more in line with what the sun is actually doing in relation to the time in their region.
My clocks, including the one on my phone, are going to stay right where they are. I'll override the stubborn ones manually.
I'm in Texas, but just count me among the Hawaiians and Arizonians who are going to just sidestep this whole shitshow. Yes, I know you don't actually have to run around your house and manually change every clock. Your phone, your Alexa speaker, whatever's internet-connected switches automatically. But the mental toll it takes wondering if all your times are right and whether you're early or late for something and determining whether you actually slept well or not the day after the clock change… who the fuck needs all that? I sure don't.
So there's gonna be some changes around here. I'm not giving up that hour I worked so hard for since last October. My clocks, including the one on my phone, are going to stay right where they are. I'll override the stubborn ones manually.
If we make plans for a 3 p.m. lunch, my ass is gonna be there an hour late because it's still 2 p.m. for me when you've arrived. Please order an appetizer and drink and bring some reading material. I'll even pay when I get there.
When I run a 10k race in April, I will end up with my worst time ever, double the hour it would normally take me. I'll take my PW—personal worst—like a man, just give me that finisher's medal.
My kids will be Ubering home from school because there's no way I'll be picking them up on time.
When we go to the movies, I'll be coming in halfway through and you'll have to whisper to me all the details of why Ant-Man is trying to not get killed by Jonathan Majors.
By October, when all of you saps are so grateful to get your stupid hour back and you’re adjusting your schedule the other way, I'll be there, laughing in your face, asking what took you so long.
I won't have any friends, I'll be banned from all the movie theaters, my kids will no longer be in my custody, and I will have lost any job opportunities that relied on timeliness since March. But I'll be right, goddammit.
I'll be done with DST and it's going to feel so good to be so right.
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