Keeping Track of Time

I’m Late!!! I’m Late…

I feel thrown this morning. Not in a bad way, in a good way – like the old, energetic, befuddled days without the hangover. I thought I got up at 6:20 this morning (I swear that is what my watch said) and I jumped out of bed in a rush, took a shower with the remains of a dream sputtering in my head, blog topics scrolling by like Rainman, and as I was making coffee, I glanced at my watch. It was 5:01…

Last week the nice lady at the Gate station said, “Happy Friday!” and I responded, with just a hint of condescension, “Hello? It’s Thursday.” I actually made her consult a co-worker who confirmed the day as “Friday,” with just a hint of superiority, and a furrow of concern for my blossoming, early onset dementia.

Dee and I had a conversation last night about whether she had one or two days to prepare for her trip on Friday. As in, whether last night was Tuesday or Wednesday. We must have sounded like tribes people from some isolated rain forest who tell the passing of days by the height of their crops. I said, “I think it’s Tuesday – I only remember doing two blog posts…” She said, “Wait – I picked up my dry-cleaning. I think it might be Wednesday,” looking at her phone disbelievingly.

Yesterday someone in the office said, “Wow. It’s 1 o’clock already,” just as I was thinking, “Oh my God, could it only be 1 o’clock?”

Disturbance of Time Sense

My disturbance of time sense is caused by brain damage. Or schizophrenia. Google says so.

Or maybe I’m just out there, busy and productive and my clock gears are a little rusty. I’ll be honest. I actually don’t care what day it is as long as I am moving forward. To quote Lewis Carroll: ““It’s no use going back to yesterday, because I was a different person then.”