I’ve always had difficulties separating child-like and childish, but I’m pretty sure I know on the scale where my current attitude actually is even as I protest otherwise.
After a weekend of glorious weather, Saturday I thought was a bit nicer than Sunday though the latter had that extra hour of daylight tagged to the back of it, I got up to start my working week (no snickering!) to not just grey skies but practically morose that really didn’t lighten all that much as the day wore on.
I’m not sure where the complaint box but let’s face it: why is it called daylight saving when it’s overcast and damp? Is this a jumbo shrimp contradictory riddle or prank? I know the farmers and the ducks appreciate the rain, especially farmers raising ducks (not that I know of any), but a little less liquid during the daylight hours would, I submit, be helpful and not just for me.
Yes, every day is a gift, but as Tony Soprano once asked, why so often socks rather than an X-box? With earnest apologies to Hemingway, if the sun also rises, wouldn’t it be nice if all of us could enjoy it?