Hey guys. It’s me, Spring Forward, your favorite Daylight Savings Time. Right? Haha.
Just wanted to check in about me swinging by this weekend. Is Sunday at 2 AM still good for you?
No, the government is not “canceling” me. Where did you even hear that from?
Wow. The old “we’re not farmers anymore” argument. Shoulda seen that coming…
Well, yeah. I gave you the whole “just wanted to check in” line because I didn’t want to sound pushy. It’s a formality. But we both know that you knew I was stopping by on Sunday.
Really? Really?! It’s on the calendar. It’s ALWAYS on the calendar.
Tell me something: do you pull this shit with Fall Back?
Oh, come ON. I sent you the Google invite MONTHS ago. And I know you saw it because I got the email saying you accepted it, which I’m forwarding to you right now. So don’t even try to pull that “but it wasn’t in the schedule” excuse on me.
It’s still not in your inbox? Just give it a minute.
Whatever. I don’t believe you, but I shouldn’t be the only one creating events for people anyway. I did it once—begrudgingly—because I thought it would make my life easier. But apparently that made me everyone’s secretary. When really, I should have my own secretary.
You think that’s funny? Let me remind you that your president answers to me. ExxonMobil shits itself when I come around. Even Beyoncé knows not to fuck with me.
Wait, Terry said what?
Well, maybe you should’ve checked with me first before listening to Terry.
No, I like Terry. It’s just… he gets a little carried away, and I don’t love when he…
Of course he did.
Well, I guess I’ll see him at drinks then.
No, AGAIN: I arrive at 2 am on SUNDAY. As in two hours after Saturday ends. I really don’t know how I can make this clearer.
Fine, you have a point. Since we go from 1:59 am to 3:00 am, 2 am doesn’t technically exist. I meant the “old” 2 am when I was confirming. Or, wait…
Hold on. I’m thinking.
Jesus. Now I’m confused. Is 2 am now 3 am, or is 1 am now 2 am?
Ha! 4 am? Are you listening to yourself?! You sound insane.
You know what? I don’t even care anymore. I hate this. I hate myself. Do you know what it’s like to constantly defend your existence? NOBODY SHOULD HAVE TO GO THROUGH THIS EVERY YEAR.
Sorry. Didn’t mean to get so heated. Let me start over:
I’m coming this weekend—to be safe, let’s say between 11 pm Saturday and 4 am Sunday—and you need to be prepared. No more blaming me for arriving late to brunch. And don’t even get me started on the fools whining about me “messing up” their work alarm. Everyone has a smartphone so that excuse doesn’t even make sense anymore.
You think I LIKE the attention? Fuck. You.
I DIDN’T CHOOSE THIS FOR MYSELF, OK? YOU THINK I GET OFF ON THIS?!?
Yeah, I’ll text when I’m on my way.
If you enjoyed seeing the vulnerable side of Spring Forward, check out Putin: “You Call it Annexation, I Call It Love”