O.K., 'fessing up to total goofiness.
As I have posted elsewhere, I have just lost my very specialized job (Hey, the stress level was so awful that it was an anticlimax) and my studio apartment has been in chaos since Christmas, starting with a leak in the clothing closet. I had to go to court early in the week with the owner to have the closet repaired; the utility closet door restored to its hinges (I tried to do it myself, but the dry rot was too awful); the chains attached to the counterweights in my window were cemented in place by the idiots who did some pointing work and had to be released so I could take the old air conditioner out and not offer the nearest burglar a drink as he climbed through the window; the idiots who repaired the window chains cut through the telephone wire right in the middle of my trying to help a friend whose aunt had died and who asked for my help and there was no way to reach him, since he was going to give me his aunt's phone number when he arrived there--using the phone number whose wire had been cut. And I was sceduled to do some consulting work in Greenwich, CT, with a must arrive time of 8:30 a.m. on Friday.
We have the scene set, right?
So, Thursday morning the guy from Bell Atlantic shows up and fixes the problem in minutes. Then I continue to try to clean up the mess the workmen left--like the Augean stables only worse! By midafternoon I was exhausted and feeling like a person with asthma trying to breathe. So I thought, take a quick nap; set the alarm in case you REALLY sleep.
I woke up, looked at the time quickly, and thought, "Damn, the alarm didn't work or whatever. HURRY UP!" (This could only happen around the time of the solstice when it is light so early and so late.)
So I jumped into clothes and ran out the door, skidded into Grand Central as there was an announcement for final boarding call for trains for Stamford, skidded onto the train. Got to Greenwich and grabbed a taxi to the office, found the door open, and dove into the work.
And then I started to notice anomalies....
To the point where I called a couple of people, sounding--I suspect--as though I had lost my senses, asking what day it was.
It was not Friday morning; it was Thursday evening! I was 12 hours early for an appointment. How utterly idiotic I felt! |
