In the last three weeks, I’ve been in four different cities, three different time zones, and two different climates. I’ve done a kid-summer’s worth of stuff, and it’s still the dead of winter. Only that means nothing around here, because it was 70 degrees today. And now I’m confused.
Basically, it feels like it should already be June. And it feels like it is June outside. But then again, the beginning of the year feels like yesterday, and I haven’t even done anything that I said I was going to do by the end of January. Only I still have a few more days so all is not completely lost. Or perhaps it is. I can no longer tell.
Do you see why I’m bad at math?