White noise in Brigadoon…

Isn’t it enough that I’m confused by the seasons without my watch joining in? I have no idea if it’s spring or summer, a few spring-like days, a few hours of summer and then we are plunged back into the autumn with even a touch of winter after dark. Summer sun, autumn winds, winter frosts, spring showers – they all seem to be dancing around at once. It’s as if the seasons were throwing a party and for fun have decided to play pass the parcel, in some weathery kind of way, or exchange clothes just to see how it feels to be another season.

Yes, I’m confused. I don’t know weather I’m coming or going. I have no idea what to wear – tee shirt or sweater, raincoat or shorts – and as if this wasn’t bad enough my watch decided to join in on the party as well.

My watch isn’t one of these new fangled things that are programmed for leap years, thirty day months, or even the addition of an extra minute or two. It requires a little manual intervention and with all this seasonal confusion months really have no chance at all -  and that’s how I found myself a day or so behind last week and running late.

Late - how I hate that word; late is like murder… a crime. But that isn’t for now. I’ll save late for another day.

Sometimes it feels like I’m stuck in my own little time warp. Of course in a normal world, where life is prompted by computerised diaries and each minute of every day is accounted for, this wouldn’t happen. But my life isn’t like that. It is one long round of sleeping, rising and eating; the only break in the repetition is Sunday when I get up at my usual time before realising that this is my day of ‘rest’. Oh, I don’t want you to think that I’m a busy, motivated, captain of industry (I’m not), but my life has evolved into something resembling that background hum you sometimes hear in the summer (whenever that is). Yes, I think it would be fair to say that my life is nothing more than white noise and there are times when dates, or even what day it is, really can’t penetrate the buzzing.

So there I was living a day behind reality, my watch telling me it was the 8^th when it was actually the 9^th - a day or so out of kilter, a Brigadoon day.

I won’t go into the almost disaster this caused. Suffice it to say I had a couple of deadlines to meet and, me being me, I ‘deadline’ right up to the last minute; although I never intentionally let them whoosh by in a nonchalant Douglas Adams kind of way. As it turned out I realised in the nick of time (whenever that is, was, or will be) that not only was I an unavoidable day late for the previous weeks missed deadline but the single day, unavoidable and unacceptable as it was, was actually two – worse or better dependent on time zone which I can never work out no matter how I try.

Ah yes, I’m confused, you can probably tell and in case you think I find it funny, I don’t. I find it annoying and worrying and something I should really try to do something about. Maybe I should try a jump to the left and then a step to the right.