Knock Knock

Who's there? The sun. The sun who? The sun who you need to deposit an hour of sleep.

Daylights savings time does not make any sense at all. Sure, the nature types have said they like the spring daylights savings time because it offers more sunlight. And the can't-get-out-of-bed-and-hit-the-snooze-button-nine-times types like the fall daylights savings time because it is an extra hour of sleep. But what's the point? I feel like a kid who hides his action figures and other collectibles in order to have the simple joy of finding it again six months later. But all it makes me is bitter and bitter with no one to hit.

So I'm running on the treadmill scanning my eyes to watch another story about steroids on ESPN and wondering if Anderson Cooper is homosexual. But then another subject interrupts my line of vision and it is the gym employee who is running to the clock to do something with it. And by the time he turns it over to find the knob, I scream so loud it has the power to do nothing. But my 165 bpm heart is shouting, "No, don't you change the time." He had the power of God in those minutes, if I can even call them that. In essence, he became the 21st century Marty McFly free from a flux capacitor and Parkinsons. With no one to fight in this battle against breaking free from the daylight, he became my scapegoat.

So when he walked behind me on the treadmill, I allowed my legs to spread apart in my jog. And sometime between the moments of 11:35 and 12:36, I farted.