Apparently I can't tell the difference between Monday and Friday. I just wrote my honors candidate to ask for his work thinking that tomorrow is Tuesday and that I'll need it before four o'clock today--Monday--to read it before Wednesday's appointment. He won't know, of course, when he reads my email that my Friday was Monday in the moment that I wrote him, so now I'm curious to see if he panics or if he ignores me. --Meanwhile indicating I've lost a whole week of my life. --That if I can't see the weekend ahead of me at four o'clock in the afternoon on a Friday--given that it's Monday--I'm going to crash headlong into tomorrow and wander about the house without a sense of what to do with myself. Which is my definition of depression. What's yours?
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But maybe I knew it would happen. Maybe after great nervous work there is only the calm nervous nothing to contend with, if you're a nervous one, which I am.
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(Update: he ignored me. It's Tuesday for real this time and I still don't have work from him.)
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