A letter to Daylight Savings Time

Dear Daylight Savings Time,
You're screwing with my mind. I don't enjoy this dark-at-dinnertime nonsense you've thrown my way. I'm not even sure what time it is anymore. When the sun goes down, I feel a sense of pressure - have I done everything I should? is it time for bed? how could this day be over already?

You're making me tired all the time, DST. It's 8:55 and I could easily pass out with a moment's notice.

Yes, I have a newborn who wakes often to eat. (The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, DST.) And yes, I'm sure that contributes to my constant sleepiness. But you, weird time adjustment concept, aren't making it any easier.

How is it that Congress can legislate time? I mean, how full of yourself do you have to be to think you can control when the sun rises and sets? Regardless, can we please switch it back? Longer days make for happier Annes. Or at least one happy Anne -and in this house that's all we really need.

So take that, Daylight Savings Time. Hope you feel the full power of my wrath.

And if this letter is too rambling and incoherent for you to understand, perhaps you had a hand in that, you bringer-of-early-sunsets.

With that, I'm seriously contemplating turning in for the night. (Until, of course, my four-week-old wakes me with a gentle reminder that he's hungry!)

Here's hoping to see some sunshine at dinner without enjoying the Senior Citizens' 4:00 pm special!

xoxo,
A.