I never appreciated the extent of how awful the idea of Daylight Saving’s Time really is until I had a baby. The authorities on time declare the main purpose of Daylight Saving Time (called “Summer Time” in many places in the world) is to make better use of daylight. I call bullshit on this whole operation.
Once I understood the important impact a regularly scheduled baby would have on my well-being, I savored and rationed my nap and evening hours like they were fine chocolates I received in a monthly subscription club.
The first Daylight Savings time of motherhood kicked my ass and gave me a time hangover for at least two weeks. Every day I was catching up and it didn’t feel like I lost (or gained) an hour, but I felt like I was recovering from a college all-nighter with no term paper or final exam to show for it.
Flash forward 14 years and it doesn’t take two weeks for my kids to adjust to the new time, but the 4:30pm sunset is not boding well for my seasonal affective disorder nor for my productivity. As the sun goes down, it seems to take my eyelids magnetically with it.
I can understand there is nothing we can do about Trump at this point, but perhaps while the country is energized to take change into our own hands, does anyone want to start a “fuck daylight savings time” petition?