Tonight is daylight savings. Normally I like daylight savings about as much as I liked going to Greek Church as a kid, which was not at all. It’s rather hard to get enthused about God when your fellow Sunday schoolers treat you like a social pariah because you don’t know how to Greek-Dance, let alone speak Greek (FYI fellow Sunday schoolers, after two years of Greek at Yale, I can now say multiple things, like “pass the Ouzo” and “the Turks are bad” and “fuck you,” so the joke’s on you).

So why am I suddenly excited about daylight savings? Because I’m in LA and I woke up at 5:30 this morning, which was not as magical as I previously imagined. It was kind of like ordering a banana split and then remembering you don’t like bananas. By 6:30 I had color-coordinated my sweaters. And by 7 I had loudly walked—and I mean I walked the way I normally do, it’s just that I’m somewhat of a stomper—through my mom’s room multiple times. And when she finally woke up, I casually said, “I hope I didn’t wake you up?” And then proceeded to make her discuss my future prospects for an hour, while I poked her to keep her awake. So cheers to you daylight savings. I’m rather excited to wake up an hour later tomorrow. And my mother is too.