Wake up when your alarm goes off at six a.m. Never mind that the clock reads seven – know that it’s six o’clock right down to your mitochondria. Live in similar denial all day. And for weeks after.
Tell your five-month-old puppy to go back to sleep, carefully explaining that this silly clock exercise was originally enacted in 1918 as a way of conserving electric power. Calculate the true time in your head at all times. Never feel guilty when you don’t get around to making your daughter’s lunch until well after her blood sugar level has dropped to her ankles. “It’s actually only our two o’clock,” you say, pushing the peanut butter sandwich across the hospital stretcher.
Defend your piles of dirty laundry and dirty dishes by reminding everyone that you lost an hour. Peruse Scottsdale realty websites and dream of living in a state whose clocks remain unaltered. Parallel plan: research how to build a kwanset hut on the equator, where day and night are always evenly distributed.
Decide to campaign against Daylight Saving Time alongside those wild and crazy Sephardic Jews in Israel, who need to recite their Slikhot prayers in the early morning hours during the month of Elul.
Lastly, consider the possibility that Ben Franklin, who conceived of the whole saving daylight concept decades before it was put in effect, was actually
an ass of infinite proportions.