No Concept of Time

1 Jun

The first thing you have to understand is that my conception of time is radically different than everybody elses.  It is not only different, but I have several, in fact, many different streams and different concepts of how long it has been since two related events occured.  These are all mutually exclusive of one another….yet, they still make perfect sense to me.  The amount of time I spent between  when I realized I liked girls and wanted to have sex with them to the time I actually pulled this off was, under my calculations, roughly 20,000 years. I think I watched animals evolve during this time.  And, on the other hand, the amount of time I’ve spent watching football for the past 30 years is, maybe, 2 hours.  I watch at least a hundred football games a year for the past 30 years.  It’s not 2 hours.  Yet, both of these ideas exist simultaneously and I have hundreds of these measures going on in my head all the time.

 

I know this and the only way I can keep track at what is going on is by having a day-timer. 

 

I lost my day-timer this weekend.  

 

This is the third-time in the last 8 months. 

 

I had never lost it before January 24th, 2011 and I have been keeping once since I was thirteen.  As a semi-retarted individual, I need my day-times for many reasons, but there are two basic services: 1) tell me which day of the week it is and 2) reminds me what month I’m.  I wish I was making this up.

 

Today, I thought it was not only Thursday but that it was, in fact, September. 

 

This creates a snow-ball effect that will shimy and cascade in a way that is best represented by the idea that a butterfly flapping its wigns in the Indian Ocean will cause a hurrican in the Gulf.  I, essentially, need Choas Theory to even remotly understand how what happened could, in fact, happen. 

 

For example, on Saturday, I spent the morning wondering where all my collegues were before it occured to me that it was a day off: not the weekend, but a day off, like a national holiday or another religious thing that I tend to forget about.  I had to ask somebody why all the businesses were closed before they looked at me like I had a nail stiking out of my forehead and tell me it was the weekend. 

 

Me: “Ohhh…is it Saturday or Sunday?”

 

I then realized my mistake and began to wonder if I was missing any commitments.  From there this snow-balled into me deciding not to answer my phone and calling people multiple times after we had alrady spoken.  Remember: peculiar concept of time: and, sometimes I feel like I need to talk to someone again after I got off the phone with them–which, under the agreed upon principals of reading a clock–has only been an hour.  I, on the other hand, may believe it is been a weeks or months. 

 

When I lose my day timer I react the same way I think shell-shocked indivuals react under periods of distress, stress, and combat: I freeze faster than people’s interest in my conversation.  I do the same thing everytime: I sit at one of my desks, for a bit and stare off into space, I go to another desk or computer and continue to stare off into space, and then I realize this is getting nothing done and I go lay down someplace.  This will continue for hours.  And, yes, I know how to solve the problem, but I can’t seem to do anything to do it.

 

I really wish I knew somebody else with this problem.  Not so we can sympathize, but so I know they are out there.

 

Further Bulletins as Events Warrant

 

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