Pants on Fire

Indeed, for I am truly a shameful liar. I proclaimed openly, right here on this blog, that I love the “fall back” part of Daylight Savings Time. I waxed on and on about the lovely long weekend and the extra hour. Piffle. This is in the Hall of Fame of lies, and I have finally come to remember this courtesy of my strange, time-impaired little brain that now persists on bringing me to full wakefulness at precisely 3:30 a.m. with no hope whatever that I will sleep even another moment. I hate Daylight Savings Time. And I hate the fall back weekend. And, at the moment, thanks to my eyes having been briskly sanded with steel wool which was then stuffed unceremoniously into my head, I more or less hate anything that stands between me and my disgracefully unmade bed (I couldn’t bear to close off any avenues of rest, even if it meant tripping and falling into it, so best to be prepared). But, as Momma Knitingale always told me, one must learn something from every experience, no matter how unpleasant the experience (yeah, I got yer learnin’ right here…..), so here for your perusal is the collected wisdom of my day (day 3 of wishing for the good old days when I was blissfully unaware of the existence of TWO 3:30’s in any given 24 hour period):

1. On days such as this, someone (gnomes? Elves? Mischievous sprites?) sneaks into the room during my few sleeping moments and viciously and with malice aforethought moves objects into the path I will take when I stumble from the bed at 0’dark-thirty. I believe that the purpose is to cause me to trip over my backpack and ram my toe into the chair. It is unbelievably successful.
2. Someone, possibly the same little bastards from number one, sees fit to swap out all my clothes for items which are, apparently, indistinguishable from one another, causing me to stare blankly and uncomprehendingly at the mass of collected and unhelpful fabric.
3. The cats can and do conspire to position themselves on the stairs for maximum “wow, listen to mommy scream as she falls” entertainment.
4. Shampoo looks just like conditioner but is a poor substitute.
5. Shaving, which seems quite simple on most days, can become a deadly task.
6. It is, indeed, possible to forget the same item three times, simply by returning to the house over and over again to stare blankly and wonder what the hell I’m doing there.
7. My husband is capable of speaking in tongues (or some other strange language that translates to nothing whatsoever in my sleep addled brain--or the steel wool that passes for it).
8. Every other person on the road today has forgotten how to drive. I don’t understand how this can be…but they have pretty much all been driving slowly, carelessly, and in front of me. Naturally, it can’t be me.
9. A class that is scheduled to last from 8:30 to 10:50 can take approximately 37 hours under the right (so wrong) circumstances. Some sort of glitch in the time space continuum, perhaps?
10. My psychology teacher has the ability, against all odds, to become even more inane than usual. (you don’t know how amazing that is….. but she’s a story for a different day)
11. My knitting has the ability to hide itself cleverly so that when I get to the 2 hour 20 minute gap between classes, I will discover that it is still at home, no doubt chuckling merrily to itself.
12. The schedule for the winter quarter has been written in esperantu. Or something else that I can’t make sense of. (wait, now…if I take Chemistry HERE, and Biology 212 HERE….then I can—no, wait. That won’t work. How about….?)
13. The charts in my statistics book, the ones I need to use to follow along with the teacher, have the ability to swirl their numbers around on the page tauntingly. (Although I did find out that I got 103 on the test I mentioned yesterday—or maybe not….I think I can’t be trusted to read numbers today…..)
14. It is actually possible to be too damned tired to become excited about yarn when stopping at the LYS on the way home. (Yeah, I know—it scared me, too. That was when I decided I’d better come right home and have a lie down. But don’t worry too much. If I’d thought about quitting knitting, I would have rushed right to the ER. I’m tired, not crazy.)
15. Conversely, too long spent in the bookstore staring glassily at who-knows-what can result in absolutely everything appearing to be a perfect gift for a secret pal, regardless of her interests, or the possibility of actually shipping it. Again, best to head home at that point.
16. One key that fits into the front door lock can become 732 that don’t. In a heartbeat.
17. Fingers can become quite spectacularly stupid and keyboarding can be much like embroidering while wearing a catcher’s mitt. I won’t even tell you how many times I’ve had to retype stuff…..I’m not entirely sure I didn’t start this 10 hours ago. That time-space continuum thing again…
18. A cup of tea, a handful of caramels and four cheese puffs can sound like haute cuisine. Truly.

I have absolutely no knitting progress to show you, which I think is for the best. If I did, it would probably resemble nothing so much as a wooly green colander in some shape never before seen on any human being. Think good thoughts for me tonight….or, if you’re up around 3:30, give me a call. At least I’ll have someone to talk to.