The Perks of Falling Back

Last night while I was sleeping, the clocks crossed over to the Dark Side and returned to standard time. Ambitious early birds (are you really going to trust someone who thinks worms are a tasty treat?) may be thrilled by the extra hour of light, and to them I say, “Good for you. Savor that extra annelid. I hope you enjoy the knowledge that you are destroying my soul with every lost minute of afternoon light.”

That will teach them.

But standard time does come with a few perks.

First and foremost, the digital clock in my car is now an hour closer to representing time accurately. The clock-CD player is not the original manufacturer’s version, so having lost the owner’s manual years ago, I have found myself helpless to re-set the time. (No, I’m not that digitally inept. Multiple people have tried; none have succeeded.) Yesterday, the clock was one hour and twenty-two minutes slow; today, it is a mere twenty-two minutes behind!

Second, I have at least a week to utilize the “forgot to reset my clock” excuse for showing up late, leaving early, or otherwise not being on time. It’s not negligence; it is a deliberate protest against the whimsy of New Zealand entomologist George Vernon Hudson. (Trust an entomologist to meddle with worm metaphors. Stick to the arthropods, George.)

Finally, the most important perk of falling back at the end of Daylight Savings Time is that I have a free pass for any clumsy behaviors that I enact today. When mocked for a tumble down the stairs, I will look the offending [probably morning] person squarely in the eyes, shrug my shoulders, and say, “I’m celebrating an international event. Where’s your global spirit?”

And that, my friends, is how I will survive the return of standard time. How will you?

Published by Jen

The author of Snark on the Side is not your average run-of-the-millennial generation. Jen is a contradiction in terms: a graceful klutz, a smart blond, a math-savvy English degree-holder, a southern liberal, and an adult amateur equestrian who doesn’t match her saddle pads. Snark on the Side is a work in progress, born out of years of rambling email newsletters and anthropomorphized Christmas letters, small town observations, and the ever-present irony of pursuing a career with a degree in English literature. Thanks for visiting!

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