It's About Time

Back in October of '07--back when my dad didn't die--while I was preparing his room in our house, I broke the stem of my watch. It was stupid, really. I was making up a bed for him and I just snagged the stem of my watch and it broke right off.

Not that big a deal, really. During daylight savings (or during Not-daylight savings, whichever, I can never remember), I just added (or maybe subtracted) an hour, every time saying to myself, "I really need to get my watch fixed."

After many, many months of that sort of inaction, the battery finally died.

I went to have it replaced only to realize--duh--that even if I got the battery replaced, there was no way to re-set it to the correct time. So unless I was willing to insert the new battery at EXACTLY the right time, or unless I was willing to do math more complicated than plus or minus one hour, I was going to have a hell of a time with my old watch.

It would be nice to say I did the reasonable, responsible thing and got off my ass and had my watch fixed. But at this point, it's been so long I sorta hate to put any MORE energy into it, ya know? Besides, I really can't afford it.

Yeah...

So I did the only other thing that seemed (somewhat) reasonable, if wholly irresponsible, under the circumstances. I relied on credit. I got myself a new watch.



(It's pretty, don'tcha think?)