At the risk of coming off as "Anti-Pilgrim" I must confess that there are few months on the calendar for which I reserve as much loathing as I do for November. It is not without its charms of course, including Thanksgiving and the birthday of the oldest of my nieces and nephews - Evan's oldest daughter Jessica. And in fairness to November, the things I find most loathsome about it are truly not its fault but are, instead, wholly related to its position on the calendar. But for those intrusive, toga-wearing phucks, Caesar (Julius) and Caesar (Augustus), I would herald November's arrival with the same enthusiasm with which I greet September.
Today is the final day of "Daylight Savings Time" here in the State of Concrete Gardens. Tonight, before the Missus and I lay our heads (her normal-sized one and my Jupiter-sized model) down to sleep we shall set the clocks in our house back one hour. The immediate payoff? One additional hour of sleep tonight and tonight only. The long-term consequence? One less hour of daylight tomorrow and every day thereafter for the foreseeable future.
When I get into my car on Monday morning and begin the great migration north on Route 287 to the office, I shall be beginning a period of roughly six months during which there shall be at least five days out of every seven in which I will not see my home in the daylight. I phucking hate it.
The (day)light is dying...
...and so I rage.