“Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so.” (Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy)
I’ve been thinking about time lately. (No, I’m not plotting a time travel novel, although I am hooked on excerpts from one in the Sunday Snippet group.)
Time in my life is… different.
I work evening shift (3:00 to 11:00). It’s “morning” until I go to work, and it’s “today” until I go to bed, even if I’m up until four or five o’clock in the morning. I frequently eat my first meal of the day around noon, which means that my breakfast is at lunchtime, my “lunch” comes at suppertime, and “supper” is a midnight snack turned into a meal.
And I work every normal weekend, so my “weekends” are Tuesdays and Wednesdays, and my workweek is Thursday through Monday, so Thursday is my Monday and today (Monday) is my Friday.
(And people wonder why I don’t know what day of the week it is!)
All of this time rambling has come about because one of my goals for this month is to write a thousand words a week. But what’s a week?
The accountability group I’m in posts the weekly share thread on Friday, but this month’s new goals just started on Thursday, which is my Monday, so…
So I have decided that my “week” for the weekly goals (write a thousand words a week and spend at least an hour a week working on some other craft) will be Thursday through Wednesday.
Because, you know, I need another definition of “week” in my life.
Meanwhile, it’s lunchtime, so I should go get some breakfast, but I don’t want to disturb my rat.
(Peter, in happier, healthier days, helping me write.)