Hey, babe? Are you okay? You sure? I don’t mean to be suffocating—more of a dry heat. Ha ha! Anyway. Ever since the Senate unanimously passed that bill that might make daylight saving time permanent, you’ve been kinda quiet. You’re not mad at me, right? Okay, good. I didn’t think so, but I know how sometimes when something is wrong, you won’t really say anything, and then—no offense—things just kind of blow up. I said no offense!
I hear you’re calling it the Sunshine Protection Act, which I know you think is sweet but…it’s a little much. You think I need protection? From what? I’m the literal sun. I can feed plants, burn flesh, bring home the bacon, and fry it up in a pan placed on the roof of a hot car all before noon! Is this because I keep reminding you to wear SPF?
Also, I can’t really tell whether having daylight saving time all the time would be a good thing or a bad thing. Like, you know how it’s fun, in theory, to imagine eating cacio e pepe as much as you want? But then it’s the middle of February and you’ve had nothing but cacio e pepe for months, and you’re begging, pleading for a carrot or some chickpeas? Aren’t you worried it’d be like that?
Plus, you seem a little confused by the whole thing too. I mean, not more confused than usual. You were never great at remembering dates—again, no offense! You know I think your little memorization tricks are cute: spring ahead; fall back; ignore the stove, I can’t figure out how to change it; what do you mean the clock in my car doesn’t update on its own? But I feel like I finally got used to you doing your weird little 2 a.m. ritual twice a year, and now you just want to stop?
You keep saying this could be good for us. That it could boost the economy, prevent some car accidents, help with seasonal depression—I mean, that’s kind of a lot of pressure to put on me, but okay. Also, it feels like an ultimatum? Because of how you said a decision would be made at a specific date and potentially go into effect in November 2023? I appreciate that you let me know you’re waiting on input from the House and airlines and broadcasters and your dad, but did you notice that you haven’t even really asked me how I feel about it?
What exactly does “daylight saving time forever” look like anyway? Would I just come over later in the morning? Sure, we could still sip happy hour cocktails on the porch in the summer, but won’t you miss having breakfast together over the holidays? Does the moon even know how you take your hot cocoa?
Hey. Hey, babe? Remember when you used to be obsessed with me? You treated me like I was the center of everything. Practically worshipped me. I miss those days. Not to be clingy, but you do know that in some places, it’s standard for it to be constantly light out for, like, half the year?
I’m all for questioning tradition though! Or even starting new traditions. Speaking of which, I’ve got some fun ideas if all you’re looking to do is spice things up a little. (Perfectly normal to get that 4.5-billion-year itch!) Okay, what if, every once in a while, I turn a crazy color, like purple or hot pink or vampire blood? I mean, the moon already does it. No? Okay. Well, you know how sometimes there are clouds at night? What if, during the day, I got to hang out with all my little shiny friends? Just me and my closest 5,000 buds? 2,500? Twelve friends in a fun pattern like a man with a crossbow or a malformed goat? One or two friends but they’re super loud? Yeah, I mean, the moon’s great and all, but I see her all the time. Like, too much even, ha ha.
Fine, how about when I’m in a silly, goofy mood, I can come out at night for a little bit? What if it’s really subtle and I only do it big once every decade or so? Not to point fingers, but the moon does it during my time. Sometimes—and I know you know about this because you put on fun glasses for it and everything—she does that thing where she just decides she’s going to make a whole thing of it. She says it’s also my thing just because she put my name on it, but we all know it’s mostly for her.
Well, I should probably get out of here. Don’t want to overstay my welcome and make everyone think I’ve banished the night or whatever. How about you sleep on it, and I’ll see you in the morning, bright and early. Or bright and slightly later. Whichever!
