Isn't it time to be done with this evil clock nonsense? The farmers don't need it anymore; they have headlights on the combines.
I don't need it anymore....except in the fall when we go back an hour. I suppose there's only so many times you can do that, though. I'm convinced it adds to my dark-circled eyes.
So here I sit at 10:04 p.m. on a Saturday night bemoaning my next move after I click this computer off.
Good night, world.