Yesterday morning The Squire and the dog came banging in to prod me out of bed. Scared me half to death; the way they acted, you’d think the house was on fire or something.
However. Once again the clock in our bedroom has taken a mind to fall back to standard time a week early. The thing is guided by some mysterious mechanism in outer space, and seems to have a mind of its own. While I was snugly thinking it was a bit past 7:30, it was a actually pushing 8:45.
Time to rise and shine, girl! Time to rise and shine! For some reason, even though this has happened several years in a row, it always ends up on a Sunday I’m on the altar. Could I not have to serve and just sneak in the back to sit down? Noooo – I have to get robed and get in procession. Yeesh.
thisendoftheswamp 
Personally, I would have just stayed in my jammies (I know not you!!!) and hid out under the robes.