No. It doesn’t mean that summer is about to miraculously appear as if from nowhere.
We’ve all lost an hour, folks, and we can’t find it anywhere. We even looked down the back of the couch.
Prepare for the following…
1) People will tell you it makes no difference as it’s a Sunday, not realising that you’ve worked every Sunday for the past 427 years. Journalism taketh no heed of the Sabbath.
2) Somebody will roll into the office an hour late despite knowing full well that the clocks went forward. We know their kind.
3) Absolutely nobody will succumb to obesity, diabetes, the chills, a fragmented relationship or a significant lapse of concentration because they got an hour less in the scratcher, despite what this absolute nonsense of an article says.
4) Anyone feeling knackered next Thursday afternoon will put it down to an hour being lost five days previously rather than the fact that they stayed up until 5am watching House of Cards.
5) It’ll make for some top quality (*shite) small-talk in the office on Monday (“Jaysus, Sarah-Mary-Margaret, I’m still feeling the loss of the hour.” “Stop it Patricia-Stephanie-Grace, I have this, like, jetlaggedy feeling all over my body…”)
Shouldn’t have gone to Coppers, ladies. The hour had nothing to do with it.
6) The clock on the microwave doesn’t update itself and will taunt you until the Autumn, because you haven’t a poxy clue how to change it.
The same goes for the bedside radio.
7) You’ll spend half of Monday trying to figure out what time it was at this exact time on Saturday. And then you’ll have a little cry and wonder where it all went wrong.
8) The first person to make a Doctor Who time-travelling joke is actually the devil. Shun him or her for eternity.
9) It does not mean that the summer has started. This is Ireland. We all know the summer doesn’t start until September, roughly five minutes before the clocks go back again.
Put away those shorts.
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