I dislike Daylight Savings Time, but it makes for easy graphics. (This is how Daylight Savings Time looks to me. )

They are a public menace. I’ll set my clock back in the fall (I think) and forward in the spring. But I won’t like it. And I won’t like you if you do.

“Ben Franklin thought daylight saving time was a good idea!” these people say. “For farmers.”

Ben Franklin also thought that it was a good idea to make the turkey the national bird! Ben Franklin gave advice in something called Poor Richard’s Almanack. Why would you take advice from a guy who advertised how poor he was in the title? Especially if that advice consisted of things like “A Cat in Gloves Catches No Mice.” Who puts gloves on a cat?

But they don’t stop there.

“This saves energy and conserves light bulbs!”

We don’t work for light bulbs! They work for us! Now I have to leave work under the cover of darkness so that my light bulbs can sit at home living the high life? Just for that I intend to leave all the lamps blazing all night. “Daylight saving time, eh?” I will snarl. “LOOK AT ALL THE ENERGY I’M CONSERVING! WORK HARDER, LIGHT BULBS! WORK!”

“Have you slept in the past week?” people will quietly inquire, and I will admit that no, I have not.

“Daylight saving time was popular during World War I,” people say. “And we brought it back during World War II.”

Do you know what else was popular during World War I? Racism. And I don’t see you rushing around demanding we reinstitute that.

To sabotage the docile friends of daylight savings, I have concocted long strings of ambiguous mnemonics. “Better to fall forward than spring back!” I tell them. “ ‘Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire’ was written in the spring!”

My only reason for supporting daylight saving time is that it makes keeping a work-life balance more difficult for vampires.

It would be one thing if people defended this abomination on the grounds that they hated waking up in the dark because it felt like being in a Dickensian workhouse. But they don’t.

And it’s not that I mind leaving work under cover of darkness. It gives me the illusion that I am a dedicated workaholic who ought to be awarded some sort of plaque. Sure, this leaves me more vulnerable to attack by vampires. But I’ll cope.

Once I tried neither springing forward nor falling back. Eventually, it works out to the same thing, but I don’t recommend trying this unless you have a six-month window during which people will not mind your showing up an hour late for everything. Perhaps don’t schedule your wedding during this time.

So sure, fall forward. Or backward. Spring ahead. But don’t try to tell me you like it. I’ll put your lights out. As the saying goes.

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