Calling Cards

Dear 7-Hour Time Difference,

I have been waiting patiently waiting for ten hours to talk to the people I love most, and the fact that I have another hour to wait so that they can arrive home from church might be grounds for a chronographic coup. I know where your precious Prime Meridian lives, and I am not above puncturing its vacuum capsule and pushing the world an hour closer to its ultimate demise.

While I realize that your differentiations are necessary for commerce, REM cycles, and Santa Claus, I personally have no use for you.  You separate families, divide cultures, and allow New York to have all the fun on New Year's Eve while the rest of us can only watch helplessly as the ball drops.  This must not be tolerated.

We have equalized genders, standardized tests, and paused movies.  You, Time, cannot escape.  If China can fit into one timezone, why do you think you can terrorize the rest of us with your -0600 derivations?  Tyranny is not very popular these days, you know...  Time, Tunisia; Epoch, Egypt... same difference.  We will topple you.

Now, on a personal note - and yes, this is a shameless appeal to pathos - I am homesick, cynical, angry, irritated, frustrated, and overall,  grouchy, and I hate blogging in such conditions.  Nothing productive can come from it, and the world is a worse place for it, I'm sure.  So please, I need it to be later NOW.  Surely you can do this little thing for so pathetic a creature as me.  I realize there could be global repercussions to this, but really, look, that's what they said about Y2K and here we are, none the worse.  As I am the most important person in the universe next to, of course, Coronel Sanders (bless his fried chicken and gravy.  Comfort food... oh how I wish I had some right now!) I am sure you will comply, and we'll settle accounts later.

Thank you for your concern,
A very dis/trans/posed Natalie