Yesterday was a weird day.
I don’t have any classes on Wednesdays, so I usually take the time to catch up on any readings for the second half of the week, do some dissertation research, write a bunch in my novel and, depending on my mood, laze about a bit. Yesterday was a typical Wednesday in that regard. I did research, wrote, read, lazed about… but the clock also seemed to inch along.
There are various theories of time out there that say that time is perceptual. That is, time moves as quickly or as slowly as we perceive it to. Which is why time appears to move faster when you’re having fun. Slower when you’re bored out of your mind. Why, then, did my day off coincide with the crawling of the clock?
Honestly, it was really confusing. I wrote a fair deal and then looked at the clock and only half an hour had passed. The same went for dissertation research and readings. Even the lazing seemed to go slowly. It got to the point where I was looking forwards to bed time when I could sleep and get on with the next day (that is, today).
On a lazy day, that never happens.
I don’t know what it was, but it definitely messed with my mind. I ended up having some really interesting dreams that could fit well into an epic fantasy novel. I forced myself awake at around four in the morning so I could write the ideas down. And now, I am suffering that decision because I definitely need a nap.
That, and the clock seems to be moving at a normal pace. Except that I don’t really have time on Thursdays to sit and do huge amounts of writing and research.
My week seems to have turned itself inside out.