I am now convinced that I am somehow time-traveling.
I don’t know how I do it, nor can I predict when it is going to happen, but I know when it has happened.
It almost always happens late on a Friday afternoon when I am getting off of work. I remember driving home. I remember ticking off in my head all of the things I am going to do over the upcoming weekend.
But then suddenly it is late Sunday evening and I am sitting in my writing chair in my pajamas wondering what the hell just happened. It is very disorienting and feels a lot like reading a William Faulkner novel while eating psychedelic mushrooms and listening to the impossible music, Bad Apple.
The funny part is, I will have had memories planted in my brain of things I supposedly did over this obviously non-existent weekend.
I plan to start doing experiments to find out if this mysterious phenomenon is reversible. For instance, can I sit in my writing chair on Sunday evening and somehow suddenly be getting off of work on the Friday before … two days into the past?
If I can perfect this, I plan to patent it and then sell it on infomercials in the wee hours of the morning on broadcast TV channels during episodes of “Three’s Company”. Studies have shown that people who watch “Three’s Company” are the demographic most likely to need reverse time travel, presumably to help them determine where their life began to spiral out of control.
I will let you know how my experiments go.
Of course, if any of them require math or installing an app on my phone, then I will most likely fail spectacularly.