We have a clock, well make that had a clock, that is very difficult to get to.

It’s always the last one we get to when we switch from regular time to daylight savings or vice versa.

The other day that hard-to-reach clocked stopped. Needed a new battery.

The tallest person available last Monday to reset the timepiece in its position was our old pal David Stull.

David stretched up high and put the clock on its perch.

I had no idea that clock was about to become our very own “Humpty Dumpty”.

Before I could really get the words, “Good job, Dave” out of my mouth the clock jumped off the wall and landed on a desk below.

The new battery flew out of the back of the clock.

But that wasn’t the worst of it. No, far, far from it.

The force of the collision knocked the hands right off the face of the clock.

A search and rescue mission was immediately dispatched but to no avail.

The hands were never recovered. Much like they were buried at sea.

I’m not sure even if we could have found the little guys that they would have gone back to working order.

But I guess we’ll never know.

Right now that wall is barren, kinda like the Sahara Desert.

And, of course, that’s the clock I use most in the whole office. I must have looked for it 50 times during the day Monday.

A replacement clock will soon get a battery and will be set in place of the old one.

Hopefully, we will be able to secure it on the wall in a much  more protected position.

It was quite a start to David’s Monday.

It was one, I’m sure, he wasn’t remotely thinking about when he climbed into his vehicle to drive to work to kick off the week.

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