AUGUST 4
(On the phone)
Friend 1: Oh hi; what’s up?
Friend 2: Hey, sorry to bother you – probably packing for vacation now, right?
Friend 1: Heh-heh-heh: I don’t pack `til morning of.
Friend 2: What if you have an early-morning flight?
Friend 1: Then I pack earlier-morning. So, no: I’m just hanging around enjoying my pre-vacation day off from work before I have to hustle myself to The Shore and then really relax.
Friend 2: Great! Well, I was just calling to wish you safe travels, and have fun with your family down there – need me to collect your mail or water your plants or anything?
Friend 1: Mail’s on hold, and you know all my plants ran away to save themselves from my neglect.
Friend 2: True. OK, have a great time then, and show me some pictures of the overcrowded beaches and boardwalk or something when you get back.
Friend 1: Thanks! I’m just looking forward to when I enter the Vacation Timelessness state.
Friend 2: The what state?
Friend 1: You probably know the feeling: it takes about a day or so, but at some point on a long trip I start losing track of the days, the weeks, the months, and if I’m real lucky, the hours and minutes. Wreaks havoc on reservations, but that’s what the other members of my group are for.
Friend 2: I think I know what you mean. Whelp, enjoy, but don’t get too timeless that you forget to come back home.
Friend 1:
Heh-heh-heh – if only….
AUGUST 19
(On the phone)
Friend 1: Oh hi; what’s up?
Manager: Oh, not much. So: you showing up to work some time today?
Friend 1: Today?
Manager: You took off more days than most people in this economy feel comfortable with, plus cushion days before and after, so you were scheduled to come back to work on the following Monday.
Friend 1: Monday?
Manager: Yes, I generously gave you off both weekend days – don’t know what I was thinking – even let you sleep in today, what a sap I am – so your shift started at 3:00.
Friend 1: 3:00?
Manager: Just get here in the next 30 minutes and make up the lost hour tomorrow, and I won’t write you up – this time. (Ends the call)
Friend 1:
Thirty minutes?
SEPTEMBER 2
(In a department store, Friend 2 goes to the customer service desk where Friend 1 is stationed)
Friend 2: Hi!
Friend 1: (With a glazed look) Hello, how can I help you?
Friend 2: …It’s me.
Friend 1: (Shakes self briefly) Yeah, sorry – I’ve been a little out of it lately.
Friend 2: I’ll say: you keep missing meeting up for lunch to show me your vacation photos; I figured I could track you down at work since you’d have to be here at some point and can’t escape. Saved it for Labor Day, since I knew you’d feel a bit down having to work on the one holiday that should be guaranteed off for all laborers, but I guess someone always has to work for the rest of us to enjoy the day, you know?
Friend 1: (Stares blankly at Friend 2) Labor Day? When is that this year?
Friend 2: (Stares blankly at Friend 1) Today is Labor Day.
Friend 1: (Shakes self briefly again) Oh, right – I get an extra day off later this week instead – which day…?
Friend 2: Are you feeling all right?
Friend 1: Yeah, 100%, why?
Friend 2: You seem more scatterbrained than usual.
Friend 1: (Looks around to make sure no one else is close by, then leans in toward Friend 2 to stage whisper) Actually, I think I may have a timelessness problem. Possibly even a syndrome.
Friend 2: What?
Friend 1: You know how I said when I go on vacation I start losing track of time?
Friend 2: Yeah, the vacation time bit; so?
Friend 1: Well, usually once I come back to reality then the arbitrarily determined days, months, minutes, hours, and all that jazz come horribly crashing back on me and the inevitable march of mortality resumes in my brain, and all is as it has been, even if it isn’t as it should be.
Friend 2: Yeah?
Friend 1: So this time, that… didn’t happen.
Friend 2: You got back weeks ago.
Friend 1: Weeks?
Friend 2: Yeah, it’s probably almost half a month by now.
Friend 1: Month?
Friend 2: Why do you keep repeating what I’m saying?
Friend 1: Because time-related words have ceased to mean anything to me. I’ve resorted to setting alerts on my phone and leaving notes for myself everywhere just to simply exist in a world where the clock means something to everyone else. I used to shop for groceries on the same day every week and now only do so when I’ve run out of food.
Friend 2: Why not set an alert or leave yourself a note for that, too?
Friend 1: Gotta draw the line somewhere. Point is, I’ve become… unmoored in time. (Eyes widen in realization) I wonder if that means I can now travel through time?!
Friend 2: I doubt it. Did you get in an accident, hit your head or something while you were away?
Friend 1: Hm? Oh, no, nothing like that – went dolphin watching one day; they were pretty fun.
Friend 2: Well, what you’re describing sounds a bit serious and you probably should see a doctor to get your brain checked out.
Friend 1:
Forget the timelessness bit – I’m afraid what else they’ll find in there.
SEPTEMBER 15
(On the phone)
Friend 2: Hi! Did you enjoy your birthday dinner with your folks today?
Friend 1: Always – I’m actually calling to let you know I’m cured.
Friend 2: What?
Friend 1: The timelessness thing. It’s done; it’s over; I’m back to so-called normal.
Friend 2: Oh… oh! That’s great! So, what was it then, did the doctor give you a pill or something?
Friend 1: Didn’t get that far: I had a barrage of scans and blood tests that showed I’m pre-diabetic and peri-lazy, so I got referred to a psychiatrist for next week but I’m cancelling because I got cured in the meantime.
Friend 2: OK, so… how were you cured?
Friend 1: Well, you know this year was the big 4-0 for both of us –
Friend 2: Don’t remind me.
Friend 1: – and at dinner one of my helpful relatives grabbed me by the shoulders right as I was about the blow out the cupcake candles and said “Welcome to Middle Age, chum!” And that did it.
Friend 2: That was it? That’s all it took?
Friend 1: Yep. In the blink of an eye, time got its stranglehold back on my brain, and I now know exactly what day, month, year, etc., etc., it is all over again.
Friend 2: Oh. Wow. Kind of a stinky way for it to happen, but whatever works, right? No more timelessness and feeling unmoored, yay!
Friend 1: Yeah, yay.
Friend 2: What’s the matter now?
Friend 1: …I kind of miss it.
