Daylight Savings Time makes no sense to me and, if I’m reading my self-selected media stream correctly, it’s potentially harmful to one’s health.
It’s the ultimate someone-took-this-joke-seriously?! head scratcher. Ben Franklin certainly wouldn’t understand the peculiar logic behind embracing this.
So for a week every year, I rant and drink more coffee. . . not that those two things could ever be construed as linked. . .
When I’m finally ready to let it go, I embrace my niece’s humor and raise a fist in the air and say “I shake my fist at you!” Makes me laugh every time. And I move on.
Thank you for your indulgence.
Now that I’m ready to redirect that frustrative energy, perhaps I’ll make a banner like the one above from Three Potato Four.