Something funny happened this morning.
So I’m dozing in my recliner, my beautiful kitty, Annie, on my lap. She’d already woken me at 5:30 for food and my illustrious company. So as I usually do after I feed her, squinting through my half-open eyes, I plop into my favourite chair, lean back, and drift back to lullaby-land.
And why not? It’s Sunday after all.
And then – a very rude knocking at my door. Wha-? Whazzat?! Annie is instantly alert, ears pricked forward. I squint (hey it’s still morning!) at the small clock across the room, and it says 9:00! Who the hell would be waking people up at such an early hour on a Sunday morning, I ask myself fiercely.
At first I ignore it, or try to. But by the third set of knocks I give up, extricate myself from my oh-so-comfy recliner, and head to the door, yelling, “Yes?! Who’s there?!”
No answer. Then I hear the elevator doors close. Whoever it was, is now gone. Dang. I’m up for nothing at 9 a.m. on a Sunday morning. Sigh. I wash up, dress, make coffee, and off to my computer I go for the usual stuff – email, Facebook, blog, etc. Like that. Time flows on, invisibly, as I sit there happily reading and/or typing away. Then I feel like having breakfast.
I shuffle into the kitchen and idly glance up at the clock on the wall. And I do a double-take.
It says 12:40.
Whaaa?!?!? You’re telling me I’ve been sitting at the computer for three hours, I yell at the clock?! No way!!!
Okay, enough with the exclamation marks. The point is, I do have some inkling of how long things take me to do at the computer. And it does not take me three-plus hours!
Maybe the living-room clock stopped? I go in there and stare at it. Nope. It also says 12:40. I stare at it some more. And I think. And stare… and think… and then it hits me.
Apparently it wasn’t 9:00. Nope. It was 11:45.