Not my kind of time travel

Leave. The clocks. Alone.

Every year this happens, yet every year it always screws with me. Daylight Savings Time, one of the stupidest, most illogical, arbitrary machinations I know of. The gorram planet isn’t rotating at a different speed just because some cobbers in the United States decide to alter the measurements of their chronometers. If the gorram farmers or whoever else need more gorram sunlight to do their gorram work, let them set their own alarms an hour earlier.

This may be a first world problem, I grant you. People who travel all the time or who are deployed in the military deal with far more severe time lag problems, I realize this. But even an hour can mess up your biological workings. I finally got my circadian rhythm back to where I wanted and needed it to be, and now my gorram ass-backwards country decided to fuck with the clocks again instead of maybe taking a look at rolling back an outdated, inefficient, illogical tradition that is nothing but a disruption.

Rant over. Until Autumn.


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