The Remnants of a Weekend

I was 10 minutes late for work this morning. Now, I don't need an excuse because no one really cares (and I was still the 2nd person in my area to get here). But, being late is abnormal for me. And I think I have a decent excuse. I had no idea what time it really was. I was lucky I was here before sundown.

Because my family and friends came to paint the condo on Saturday, everything got unplugged. Clocks apparently either didn't get set or got set wrong. It was a different time in every room of my house this morning. When I left the house, it was 7:30 in my bedroom, 7:15 in the kitchen, 9:15 in the living room, and 6:30 in the dining room. Plus, my watch is missing again and my cell phone, the only real source of actual time in my life, wasn't recharged last night.

I do have some battery-run clocks. But, as The Intended would attest, they never tell the right time anyway--and they were the ones furthest off today. In fact, as she pointed out just last week, my house always seems to have different time zones per room. So, really Saturday's work may not be the cause at all. I just have a general time gap in my house. Maybe this condo is like a time machine and some rooms transport you into the past or the future. That'd be cool. And should help in the selling of the property. I wonder if my realtor will list "possible time-bending powers" as one of the attributes after "newly painted."

As a work update on the house, it is fully painted now. I only have some minor touch-ups and caulking before moving to Phase 3: The Heavy Cleaning. (Phase 1 was Extraneous Stuff Removal. Phase 2 was De-Toddifying the Walls with lots and lots of off-white. Phase 4 is apparently Synchronize Clocks.) The place looks a lot brighter and bigger now with the light paint. I don't like it. But it looks bigger and brighter. The kitchen is almost blinding.

We had a really really fun day Saturday. It's bad to gather all the Hertz's in a small confined space. And The Sister's Boyfriend may have gone away mortified. I'm really not sure what all happened, but I just remember at one point yelling, "I poop in a bag!" And that was before the giant Olive Garden bottle of wine. Things got worse from there.

Dream Log
(2/23/07)
My high school friend John and I were in college together. Or it may have been some camp. But we were in a large group of young people and staying in a dorm-like commune. John and I began to individually get visited by this strange guy who would just pop out of nowhere. He said he was time traveling and needed our help.

He'd only visit me for minutes at a time, but John told me the visitor popped into his closet for 2 hours one night. "Did you ask him what was going on?" I asked. John said no. "Did you ask him how we can help him or where he came from?" John said no.

Eventually, John and I learned that time travel didn't need a machine or any devices. It was a mental state. We learned to bend time and space with our minds. It was great.