Ah, Daylight Savings Time. Twice a year, like clockwork (pun intended), we engage in a tradition as baffling as trying to teach a cat algebra. “Spring forward, fall back!” they chant, as if repeating it somehow makes the madness logical. It’s like someone thought, “Let’s just confuse everyone and ruin a perfectly good sleep schedule. Twice a year.” Brilliant idea.

We stumble out of bed, fumbling with microwaves and car dashboards, muttering, “Is it really 7 a.m., or fake 7 a.m.?” Because let’s be honest, no one remembers to change the clock on the microwave, so we spend six months living in a Schrödinger’s Time Zone.

And why? Once upon a time, it was about saving candles or coal or something. Today, it’s just a high-tech version of the same headache, except now we’ve got to remember to reset not only the microwave, but our smart fridges, thermostats, and Fitbits too. And don’t get me started on pets. Try explaining to your cats why dinner’s an hour late just because of “the government.” Then there’s the collective brain fog as we adjust. Studies even show heart attacks and car accidents spike right after the change—so much for saving lives.