Of Time Blindness by Bonnie Le Hamilton

 

In the Harry Potter book Goblet of Fire, Harry experiences a strange phenomenon where time seems to speed up or slow down. He found it disconcerting; I found it realistic. What I always had a hard time believing was Data on Star Trek the Next Generation knowing the exact second of elapsed time.

Then again, Data is a machine.

Real humans are not machines.

I, for one, am someone people refer to as time blind.

One minute it’s not even eight o’clock, the next it is after eleven, and that’s normal for me, not just some weird phenomenon, like Harry experienced. My whole days and weeks; time jumps ahead in leaps and bounds. Well, except in the middle of the night when every ache and pain is making it hard to sleep, then it crawls.

I’m used to the leaps and bounds. It has been like this my whole life. I’ve learned to compensate for it. If I have an appointment, something that must be done at a certain time, I set an alarm to alert me to the time, to let me know it is time to get ready and out the door. I need to set more alarms. Like when I just need a five-minute break and end up taking a two to three-hour break.

It’s hard to get anything done doing that. It’s terrifying and annoying when, after the time has elapsed, I remember I had something sensitive I needed to get done.

Yeah, writing this post almost got lost in my time blindness.

I remembered, but at a point when I was so tired I couldn't see straight. Impossible to write that way. I needed rest first.

Which brought me to the time going slow problem. I had trouble getting to sleep. I had trouble getting comfortable enough to sleep. I just plain had trouble. And every time I thought hours had passed in misery, only minutes had.

I hate long nights like that, but I finally found a comfortable position and got some sleep, only to wake up with my blood sugar so low I was about to be sick. I hate having a half a dozen things to get done post haste while the final thing is what my body needs most.

Of course, part of that is that I have to consider my cat’s needs before my own. There has to be a balance there. It might be easier if I had someone in the house to help me finish all the tasks, but, unlike Konnie, I live alone, unless you count Patches.

Though Patches doesn’t have an opposable thumb, he can’t serve up his own breakfast, nor can he make mine; I have to do both.

Now, though, I have the issue of having to write a post when my brain is still yelling for sleep.

And, as I am out of time, I’m leaving my post right here.

Happy writing, everyone!