In September the boys went back to school, and realizing that I had one fewer summer with them before they’re grown up and leave me, I fell into a depressive spiral.
- I got depressed, and I brooded.
- I brooded, and couldn’t sleep.
- I got sleep deprived, so I became exhausted.
- My exhaustion weighed on my mood, making me depressed.
- Lather. Rinse. Repeat.
Any step in the cycle can trigger the whole thing, each one leading to the next in a positive feedback loop, so it is important for me to maintain an even keel. My life is a high wire balancing act, where one hard push can send me tumbling down.
Enter Daylight fucking Savings Time.
This relic of WWI is still being foisted upon us by the powers that be. No one likes it, no one wants it. We coincide it with March break because we know it screws up the kids. We know it screws us up; traffic accident statistics show us it’s actually dangerous. From painful personal experience I know it’s dangerous to my mental health, making it dangerous to my very life. Yet no one takes the initiative to get rid of it.
It’s four days since we moved the clocks forward for another summer. It’s dark again when it’s my time to rise, and it’s still light when bedtime approaches. My entire schedule has been thrown out of rhythm, and I find myself fighting the spiral.
All because our “leaders” are too frightened, or too stupid, or too docile to make a simple policy change and do what’s right for our health, and for our kids.
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