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Daylight Savings Time started yesterday, three weeks earlier than normal and I don’t like it. Aside from the fact that if you do something twice, it’s tradition and you don’t fuck with tradition, I have a spring ritual. The year goes something like that’s: after the festivities of Christmas, you slog yourself through a cold, snowy and impoverished January. February is too depressing for words – I read an article in the paper that discussed just how depressing February is and suggested that if we renamed it, maybe it wouldn’t remember how awful it is supposed to be. They even suggested a new name. George. I’m not sure that’d work. However, in March, you start being able to see the metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel (as well as the literal as it’s light around dinner time) and for some reason, probably the level of anticipation, this month feels really long. But three weeks in and there is the spring solstice and you start walking around with a silly grin on your face and then, before you know it, you set the clocks forward one hour and it’s official. Spring is here. There is a flow, a natural progression, a delicious anticipation.

Imagine sounds of screeching brakes… This lovely flow does not happen when daylight savings time comes before the solstice. Things are very wrong. I feel offkilter. This may have something to do with the fact that despite having several conversations about “spring forward, fall back” on Saturday night, I still set my alarm clock back before I went to bed and on Sunday morning, when my attendant came to help me get up, I accused her of being two hours early. Then sat around in a haze all day. It always takes me about two weeks of exhaustion for my body clock to catch up, so that’s likely to continue.

I remember last year when Ontario decided to follow the States and move the dates for DST. I remember an awful lot of arguments about how this would Save The Children – something to do with it not been dark while they walked to school, therefore resulting in less accidents (although I do remember reading one article that poked holes in the contention, but naturally, could never find it again). Clever that. What kind of churlish misanthrope would quibble with Saving The Children? Which is, naturally, why they – and ‘they’ can be anyone – always trot out The Children when they want to obfuscate a wobbly claim and/or limit questions (pardon the brief sidetrack into conspiracy theory). At the time, I remember wishing that the government would be honest – just say we have to follow the U.S. or our economy would tank. Stop dressing it up in ruffles and rainbows, just tell me the truth. Anyway, the main argument has changed. These days, now that global warming is hot (pun intended), moving DST is in order to Save The Planet and The Children are nowhere to be found.

I can’t help but wonder… Isn’t it a little strange that no one cares about either The Children or The Planet in the darkest winter months? Wouldn’t it make more sense to just change things to daylight savings time all year round? I mean, we’ve already changed the universe when we demoted Pluto, so why not change Time? Of course, this could lead to major catastrophes when the gods decide to smite us for our arrogance and I think I need a nap before my imagination completely runs away with me.

Now, it’s entirely certain that there are holes in my vague arguments big enough for an entire herd of pachyderms to march through and that someone will enlighten me in the comments. I ask only that you be gentle, because I am sleep-deprived and, as my father was fond of saying, confused at a very high level. I was never quite sure whether that meant he was confused, yet very smart, or very confused. Today, for me, it’s the latter.