Daylight-Saving Time begins Sunday at 2 a.m., for which I am glad, because that means I get an extra hour of daylight in the evenings, which in turn makes it seem more like spring (even if the weather isn’t there yet) and less like this interminable winter that I’ve had to endure. (Yes, I said “I” and not “we” because, on IDWID, it’s all about me. Maybe IDWID actually stands for “I Do What I Do.”)

Daylight-Saving Time is a reason to rejoice, not complain, and yet half the people who talk about DST or in the news stories I read, there’s this underlying tone of, or even the direct quote, “Oh, we’re losing an hour of sleep this weekend.” To which I say, “Bah.” Quityerwhining.

Unless you work overnight Saturday, or early Sunday morning, who cares? So you “lose an hour.” It doesn’t even have to be “an hour of sleep.” You have all weekend to make it up. If you don’t have to be anywhere Sunday morning, which I don’t, then you can make up this hour by simply sleeping until 11:00 rather than 10:00. Going to church? Skip it. You’re an adult. Or go to church; I don’t care. Just don’t whine about it.

Or, better yet, just call it a loss of a day and sleep until 2:00.

Or, you know, go to bed an hour earlier. It’s a freaking hour, for crying out loud. It’s not like eight-hour jet lag.

I’m allowed to complain about winter sucking the life out of me. You’re not allowed to complain about an hour time-shift destroying your precious sleep cycle. Because I make the rules.

You wussies.