So why am I suddenly excited about daylight savings? Because I’m in LA and I woke up at 5:30 this morning, which was not as magical as I previously imagined. It was kind of like ordering a banana split and then remembering you don’t like bananas. By 6:30 I had color-coordinated my sweaters. And by 7 I had loudly walked—and I mean I walked the way I normally do, it’s just that I’m somewhat of a stomper—through my mom’s room multiple times. And when she finally woke up, I casually said, “I hope I didn’t wake you up?” And then proceeded to make her discuss my future prospects for an hour, while I poked her to keep her awake. So cheers to you daylight savings. I’m rather excited to wake up an hour later tomorrow. And my mother is too.
Daylight savings, or as I like to call it, the absolute worst
Tonight is daylight savings. Normally I like daylight savings about as much as I liked going to Greek Church as a kid, which was not at all. It’s rather hard to get enthused about God when your fellow Sunday schoolers treat you like a social pariah because you don’t know how to Greek-Dance, let alone speak Greek (FYI fellow Sunday schoolers, after two years of Greek at Yale, I can now say multiple things, like “pass the Ouzo” and “the Turks are bad” and “fuck you,” so the joke’s on you).