Last week. There I was in the lift at work trying to recall the name of the other person who had got in. Andy? Sam? Aloyosios? Joe? Mortimer?.
As cover, I said, thank goodness tomorrow is Friday.’
‘Yeah, that’d be so great,’, said Gavin or Hadrian or Alex or Tim. ‘But tomorrow is Thursday.’
It was around 3pm. I had spent most of that day in the wrong day!
Next day about 3pm, I realised it was STILL Thursday. Was Thursday going to never end?
This week. I see my train leaving the station. It will be 12 minutes until the next. What useful thing could I do in 12 minutes? Support my neighborhood small business by buying a lotto ticket of course.
‘6 games for tomorrow night’, I say to Ana, or Julie or Susan. She knows my name, so what’s hers? I try to recall.
‘So that’s 6 games for Friday night?’ Asks Jill or Cathy or Bethany.
‘For Saturday, please, tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow is Friday. Today is Thursday.’
‘Thursday? Today is Thursday? Oh.’
So you see, friends, I seem to be trapped in some sort of fold in time in which today is forever Thursday.