In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth. And the earth had no form. It was empty, covered with darkness and water. And God stepped in this water, in the darkness, and it gave him the major willies.
Then the Spirit of God hovered over the water, and God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. God saw that the light was good. It was a pinkish warm glow that complimented the smart stripes in his Waverly throw pillows.
But God couldn’t leave well enough alone because God can be like that. So God created the compact fluorescent light bulb. “That is the ugliest frigging light bulb I’ve ever seen in my life,” God’s life partner Kenneth said. “But Muffin,” God tempered, “it uses 66% less energy than a standard incandescent bulb and last up to ten times longer.” At which point Kenneth said he didn’t give a rat’s ass because the bulb made his skin blue.
So God surrendered the argument and threw the compact fluorescent light bulb into the dumpster. (Where Satan lifted the patent.) Then God divided the pinkish warm light from the darkness. God called the light day, and the darkness he called night. And the evening and the morning were the first day, even though it felt more like three damn days to God.