Write Your Congressman

The only way I know it’s not Tuesday is I didn’t have my Italian test yesterday. But then again, the only reason I didn’t take my Italian test yesterday is because I figured it was Sunday. The only way I knew it was Sunday was because when I woke up I didn’t go in to work at ten like I’m supposed to on Saturdays. Then again, my boss has stopped calling me when I don’t show up for work, and my Sunday work is unsupervised and I could conceivably come in whenever I want.

I think today is Monday.

If today is Tuesday, that means I missed my test yesterday and I’m horrendously late for my test today. If today is Tuesday, that means I worked one hour too many yesterday and it will go down as yet another hour of unpaid work. If today is Tuesday, that means I have to completely edit my film by the end of tonight. I really hope it’s not Tuesday.

If today is Friday, though I highly doubt it is, then everything is long over due, which is sort of liberating in its hopelessness. If today is Friday, I can chalk up the semester in the loss column and move on with my life. If today is Friday, I don’t really have to do anything for the next month or so. It would be pretty nice, albeit a little unfortunate, if today were Friday.

Today has to be Monday. My watch says it’s Monday. What little semblance of cognitive function I have left tells me it’s Monday. I have a feeling if I turned on CNN Anderson Cooper would tell me it’s Monday.

But what if everyone has been mislead? What if somehow, during the night, everyone came to believe that today was tomorrow and that yesterday is today? Then all the major media outlets would present the date one day in advance, and the world will have lost a day. We lose an hour in the day in the springtime, who’s to say that losing an entire day couldn’t happen?

That seems just like the powers that be to steal a day from me at a time when I need it most. Can’t we just go back a day? Repeat Sunday just like we repeat a wee morning hour in the fall? The public needs to write their respective congresspersons and ensure falling back a day becomes a reality.

Then we can all piss the entire day away playing guitar hero, getting loaded or whatever else constitute our respective vices.

Then next year we can ask for another day. Eventually we’ll be asking for years at a time. Once a person turns eighty, he can ask to fall back sixty years to repeat his prime years of life. This can be a reality. Please, write your congressman. We could all use some extra time.