
Somehow we lost Wednesday. It was Tuesday yesterday, but today proved to be Thursday. How do both of you lose a whole day of the week? I’ll tell you.
And maybe losing a day helped me understand how time really works.
***
Once a week, I try to go to my favorite coffeeshop in town, The Lively Iris. I pack up my computer, notebook, headphones, a book if I need it, and a bag of my tarot cards in case I need to do a reading.
Having a weekly cafe time gets me out of the house and into a cafe setting where I can guzzle a latte, scarf a pastry and a breakfast panini, listen to the classical/jazz/folk/easy rock mix in the atmosphere and the sounds of local people coming in and chatting with the staff. It’s a reminder of community for me, but also just a little hustle and bustle. In that hustle and bustle I can settle in to work sometimes. Other times, it is me chatting with staff and local people. Recently we have been talking about forming a writing group, and that’s exciting.
It was raining this morning, a lovely rain, as I drove to town. Outside my car windows lay the vast fields of this season’s unharvested giant marshmallow crop.

***
I live out in the forest with my partner about 15 minutes from town in northeast Tennessee. The houses get fewer, further between, and you get more forests and flood plains and the river. Soon, I’ll be approaching our driveway which is about 3/4 of a mile long through the forest. By the time you reach our place, you are deeply sequestered from most traces of city or people. You can see the occasional plane fly overhead. You can lose track of the world.
Which isn’t a bad thing, really, until you lose a Wednesday.
I don’t know if we had two Mondays or two Tuesdays this week, but I expected this to be Wednesday, and I went in to town to find my favorite coffeeshop and it was closed. At first, I thought someone had been sick, and I checked the posted Hours and, yeah, they’re only closed on Thursdays and Sundays, and I assured myself that this wasn’t Thursday.
But it was. I was wrong.
***
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