The day that never was

There is a time anomaly happening in Clapham, and depite muy efforts to dispel it, it seems to have set in for the night.

I had a number of plans for today's activities and none of them has come to fruition on account of there being no time, or time moving in nefarious ways.

My alarm went off at 10am as requested (not often I set it on the sabbath, you know). I made a cup of coffee. Black, since the stuff in the bottle at the back of my fridge is, judging by the colour, doing its damnedest to revert to grass. And then it was inexplicably 12.30.

Shortly thereafter I decided to check the time of the evening showing of Star Trek: Nemesis at our local picture house.

And then it was 15.00.

At that point I decided mayhap some sustenance was required, and being a lazy git decided to visit the local caff rather than negotiate with the contents of my kitchen. Said caff is 7 minutes dawdle away. I arrived at 3.45. Ordered and ate dinner. Then it was 5pm.

Bewildered by this constant time contraction, I decided to walk down to the Common and pick up tickets for the Trek movie.

It was at this point that I finally realised that something was not right with the time flow. At Clapham Common, the time was 4.15 and the movie list showed no sign of anything Star Trek. It was on. Last week.

I am currently not sure what time it is, despite the clock on my PC. I have a horrible feeling that I am still in the caff eating my chicken and chips at the same time as I am here typing this.

This is not a Sunday time stream at all. It is an office meeting time stream.

I am going to try writing this evening, whilst waiting for myself to come home after walking down to check on the time of last week's movie schedule.

The packet of smokes on the table next to me are only tobacco, I'm sure.

At the rate I'm going, it will be yesterday before I'm finished getting back on track. At least that's what I told myself next week.

I hate Sundays.

The day that never was

There is a time anomaly happening in Clapham, and depite muy efforts to dispel it, it seems to have set in for the night.

I had a number of plans for today's activities and none of them has come to fruition on account of there being no time, or time moving in nefarious ways.

My alarm went off at 10am as requested (not often I set it on the sabbath, you know). I made a cup of coffee. Black, since the stuff in the bottle at the back of my fridge is, judging by the colour, doing its damnedest to revert to grass. And then it was inexplicably 12.30.

Shortly thereafter I decided to check the time of the evening showing of Star Trek: Nemesis at our local picture house.

And then it was 15.00.

At that point I decided mayhap some sustenance was required, and being a lazy git decided to visit the local caff rather than negotiate with the contents of my kitchen. Said caff is 7 minutes dawdle away. I arrived at 3.45. Ordered and ate dinner. Then it was 5pm.

Bewildered by this constant time contraction, I decided to walk down to the Common and pick up tickets for the Trek movie.

It was at this point that I finally realised that something was not right with the time flow. At Clapham Common, the time was 4.15 and the movie list showed no sign of anything Star Trek. It was on. Last week.

I am currently not sure what time it is, despite the clock on my PC. I have a horrible feeling that I am still in the caff eating my chicken and chips at the same time as I am here typing this.

This is not a Sunday time stream at all. It is an office meeting time stream.

I am going to try writing this evening, whilst waiting for myself to come home after walking down to check on the time of last week's movie schedule.

The packet of smokes on the table next to me are only tobacco, I'm sure.

At the rate I'm going, it will be yesterday before I'm finished getting back on track. At least that's what I told myself next week.

I hate Sundays.