The Ninth Plague comes to Sevilla

The time changed in Spain. It was 2:59 AM. And then it was 2:00 AM. I suppose that's generally how time changes work. I suppose we experience them about once a year. And every year, I go through the same thought process.

First, I wake up, and think, "Well, it's really like 10, not 9, so it's not that early to wake up. But then again, it's 9, so I can sleep later, until 10."
That "I just gained a whole hour" realization part is stellar.

Then, it's seven o'clock and it's dark and I decide time changes are dumb. More light in the morning - quite practical if you're leading an agrarian lifestyle, milking cows and sowing fields.

Not practical if you're everyone else in society a.k.a. more than 3/4 of Spain and 4/5 of America according to NationMaster.com.

I have no clue how accurate those statistics are and frankly, I don't care. All I know is when it's dark, the day feels over. And I inevitably think, "Where did that day go?" (Answer for today: Jersey Shore dubbed, a turkey sandwich, some winter course planning, and solid time clearing mysterious  last night's glitter off my eyelids).

Go away, time change. I am not ready for my days to be over so early in Spain.

With just 46 days left in this land, I need more sunlight hours to see more awesome things. I would wake up earlier but anyone who has ever met a Groner knows that mornings just are not our jam.

Anyone know where I can get night vision goggles? I should be able to see out my window at 7:30 PM.

You're kidding. Well, just another reason to paint  all of your houses white.
So they can attract any light left at 7:30 PM, right?