A Herculean effort
Monday, November 05, 2007, 6:47 PM
Stupid end of Daylight Savings Time.
Zipping forward an hour means that when I leave work, it's dark out. Who came up with the idea we should go forward in time during the winter months? It makes no sense. Last time this week, it was still light outside when I got off work. This week? Dark. Because we went forward in time.
Everyone knows the winter (late Fall) months are shorter. So why make them seem even shorter?
Stupid end of Daylight Savings Time. I'll never understand it.
I don't want to, either, so leave me alone.
Rantage aside, I think it takes even more of an effort to come home and sit in front of the computer (after I've been sitting in front of one all day) if it looks like it's 8:00 p.m. outside when I get off work. My eyes are crossing. Burning.
I'm up to a whopping 2108. Yaay, me.
“Are you going to kill me?”
The man looked at her intently. “Those are not my instructions. Do you wish to die?”
Shaine watched the woman remove the black Uggs on her feet. She’d wished her memories gone before, wished for her real parents, wished she felt worth loving. When she thought about dying, and she had, often, it was always with a sense of loss. There was something she was supposed to do, to feel, to become, but life hadn’t took her in the right direction yet.
“No, not yet,” she whispered and the woman at the end of the bed, the one who’d removed her boots, nodded once at her, as if in approval.
“Then lets get you bathed,” the woman said, her voice seeming to come from a great distance.
Panic pierced Shaine’s lassitude. “He can’t.” It took an awful lot of effort and seemed to take forever, but she twisted her neck to look up at the man, to make sure he knew her feelings. She had a problem with anyone seeing her naked.
“We’ll give it another minute,” he said to his partner.
This reads so evil. So unevenly.