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Today had better be Sunday, or I'm in big trouble at work. One of the strongest indicators of overwork and high stress levels for me is that I lose sense of time. I start at 6 a.m. and don't resurface until 11 because my body is demanding some attention NOW.

I'll go back to the keyboard (or pen) as soon as those demands have been met until 1 p.m. when my coworkers, bless their hearts, offer to answer telephones and beat back the ambushes until 2, so I can take a lunch break. I nearly went ballistic on Friday when at 1:15--15 minutes into my all-too-short lunch--an outside employee came bursting into the office bellowing, "It's too quiet in here! Let's have some noise, some music!" Thanks to our system of crime and punishment, he still walks this earth with all his limbs intact and his head attached right side up. I think.

The disorientation extends into the weekend. I sleep heavily, almost as if drugged, and awake not knowing what day it is. Yesterday I had planned to take the overtime money burning a hole in my pocket and go to an arts and crafts exhibition at Santa Monica auditorium. I got washed, dressed and fed, packed my day bag, got into the car--and checked the ticket. it was last weekend.

C'est la vie, c'est la guerre. I went to a North Hollywood bookstore instead, one of my favorite haunts for used books (they have cats to pet as well). I bought several Sharyn McCrumb books on Sue's recommendation and three Steven Saylor too. The Saylor books are mysteries set in Caesar's Rome. McCrumb's book (of course I've started reading one, She Walks These Hills) is set in Appalachia, then and now. Enjoyable reading.

I took a nap in the early afternoon and woke up convinced it was Sunday. The day was nice and cool and the bedroom window shuttered. I slept soundly and thay may account for the time slippage. I watch very little television (most days none) so I have nothing but the Internet to reset my internal time sense. When I checked www.catoftheday.com and it was the same cat, I knew that I'd best warp back to Saturday and start making dinner. Frozen chicken, you know, is not terribly tasty unless cooked and smothered in something herbal and pungent.

So today is Sunday, another bright, sunny, cool day. I will do errands and chores early--groceries, laundry, cleaning--and then finish off the McCrumb book. If I start off reading, I may never get around to the necessary tasks.

And then tomorrow is Monday...secretary will be off, clerk too, boss has been temporarily reassigned. Gird up the loins, grasp the mouse, charge! (Now there's a mental image for us visualizing types!)

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