70/365

Oh Daylight Savings Time, you poseur. I can't keep track if I am falling forward or tripping backward or going in whatever direction you tell me to change. You keep telling me that you are here to help, but I don't see it. All I know is that you kicked my bee-hind on Saturday night, and wake up time certainly seemed awfully early on Sunday, and Monday wasn't yet quite right either. By Wednesday I should have had you figured out, but my regular morning run seemed much more dusky than it did a week before. It seemed like I turned off the streetlights as I passed them by, clicking off one after another as if I was flipping off the switches for the day ahead. Why can't we just leave things be?