April 6, 1999: Spring forward fall backwards
The mind doesn’t understand, nor does it wish to argue. It sleeps, allowing constant habit to push you forward. To lose or gain an hour—stick a needle in my arm and take a pint—not of blood but time. We obviously had too much of it or the hour would still be with us. The old silver faced mantle clock just tells time—no other form of communication, pretty much like the rest of us, just trying to catch up on an hour…the one lost and I cant find it.