Yesterday I was driving home from Trader Joe’s, my mind deep in my novel. I am SO close to finishing it I can literally see the end and I was excited about what I was seeing. Then my eye caught a street sign and I was yanked back into the real world. I was crossing Roscoe, but Roscoe didn’t look like Roscoe. My breath came a little fast. Why is the world weird? I wondered. I passed the street I usually take to cut over to my home street and because that street didn’t look like itself, either, I missed the turn. My worry accelerated to a mild panic. I’m a mother! I thought. I don’t have time for a brain tumor! Just then the main thoroughfare appeared. I turned down it gratefully and brought myself completely into reality. Figure out what you just did. Figuring it out only took a few seconds. I’d simply turned down the street prior to the street I usually turn down, but my brain, rummaging through my novel, analyzing, creating, sent no confirmation of this move. Therefore, I experienced lost time, I presume. If I hadn’t seen the Roscoe street sign, perhaps I’d still be driving.
Regardless–I’ve got my ending.
Yours in dire conclusions,