Senseless Sunday Sarcasm : Time change
I’m being lazy today, so I copied a post I wrote in November of 2018.
If it looks familiar, you now know why.
I’m glad I copied it — I didn’t realize just how often the little
s#its…uh…angels pee on my bed.
There is another reason:
This is real-time — just taken a few minutes ago. If you look on the screen, you can see the same words as the ones above (including cat scratches, nose rub marks…). If I don’t finish this quickly, his next step will be on my computer…literally.
Every single time the clock springs forward or falls back, there are consequences.
Cats aren’t the only ones inconvenienced
I can understand why the wretched ritual was started: It was World War II and we couldn’t risk the Nazi’s flying overhead and seeing our tank factories at night.
Or something like that.
But we’re living in the age of quantum fizzles, where everything and everyone is spied upon, so if any country in the world wants to determine what color underpants we’re wearing, we’re screwed.
Tonight’s sleep deprivation is making me think there’s a conspiracy going on — either that or mass insanity. Who in their right mind wants to fubarr a nation’s inner time clock every 6 months?
Take, for example, my cats. Really. After tonight, I’m seriously considering having them exorcised!
One of them threw up next to his food, and another one (though I known not
witch which) decided that my bed was a giant litter box and summarily dumped a quart of pee on it.
If there is one steadfast rule in the universe it’s this:
Nope….That’s not the one I was looking for.
More along these lines:
There’s no better cat revenge than keeping a human up until midnight washing pee soaked EVERYTHING and then laughing while she tries to sleep with a faint smell of pee still in the air.
Well…4 more hours until it’s time to get up for work. Tomorrow, I’ll be sure to close my bedroom door — for the next month — until my little bundles of
pee joy get over this stupid #*%&!^@ time change.