No Clock for Old Women

Last night we watched the second-to-last Battlestar CanaGalactica/Galactacouver, zooming right through it on DVR by skipping all the commercials.

When it was over, David saw that No Country For Old Men was about to start on a movie channel. Without taking a break, we went from cold & bleak outer space to hot & dusty west Texas. I hadn't seen the movie and was sucked right in. I don't remember the last time I was so captivated by a movie.

When it ended, I glanced at the clock on the cable box. It read 12:10. You might be thinking, So??? Well, let me tell you. Last I remembered, it was about 8 o'clock and we'd just finished eating. I thought it might be about 9:30, maybe 10, but after midnight!? How did that happen?

I was robbed of two whole hours of my night! By the Cohen brothers! By a guy with a spectacular salad bowl Prince Valiant haircut and a shotgun with a silencer! Have you seen that gun!? It's fugging amazing!

Maybe not "robbed"... Not like the movies Tank Girl and Domino - outright time muggers that make you want to bludgeon their makers for having ever wasted all that film, or flog yourself for having wasted precious time watching such garbage.

It was jarring, is all, to go from feeling like it was still kinda early to BLAM - late. My internal clock was totally off and I was pissed. I need that clock to be right, since I hardly ever wear a watch anymore.

Still thinking about that movie today. "You can't stop what's comin'." "Believing it's all about you is just vanity." And now I want to talk just like Carla Jean and wear my cowboy boots everywhere. Evrawayer.

Stoopid Time Change

I don't understand why we keep doing this. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stoopid, and obviously, it's making me cranky.

The cats are pissed, too. They have regulated stomach clocks that do not just automatically adjust. Now we're tired, cranky AND have to watch our backs.

The only good thing that ever happened as a result of "falling back" was many, many years ago when I was first living in San Francisco.

I'd been to an almost all-night Halloween party the night before and ended up sharing a cab home with some guy who thought he was coming home with me. Too much beer can make a lot of things seem real.

When the cab got close to my neighborhood, I told the driver to pull over, got out and sprinted through Park Merced - where everything looks the same - and easily lost the guy with plans for a slumber party.

Upstairs, face down on my bed, the last thing I remembered from that night was wondering how I got inside my apartment. Seems I'd forgotten how keys work when you put them into the lock and turn them the right direction. Seriously, seriously drunk and impaired.

Woke up later that morning with an awful hangover and realized I was late for work. The job I just got back at another store closer to school - that morning was my first day back. And I was late. Awesome.

I called the office and the phone rang and rang and rang. Holy shit, it must be so busy they can't even get to the phone. I'm screwed, I'm screwed, I'm screwed, I'm screwed. No, no, no, no, no - what a colossal blunder.

Standing [slumped over] in the shower, I realized - holy shit, FALL BACK. I actually got there on time. Since then, I haven't had any use for standard time.