Wormhole In My Bed


A wormhole has opened in my bed.  Overnight, the Universe used this oddly placed space-time anomaly to rocket me one hour into the future.

I’m not certain how I will fare in this disquieting alien world.  Everything looks essentially the same as it did yesterday, but when I was out walking the dog this morning, the familiar faces of my neighbors seemed to express an experiential wisdom I had never noticed before, as if they were privy to a deep and bittersweet mystery whose unfolding I had somehow missed while I was asleep.

I’m not ashamed to admit that I am downright freaked out by this bizarre development.  If this event is subject to recurrence, I may find myself ringing in the New Year on December 16th.  Imagine my embarrassment as I take in the baffled expressions of bystanders struggling to explain to their frightened children why the weird man in the party hat is shouting “Happy New Year!” on December 16th.  I just don’t think I have what it takes to navigate this strange new world.

I will endeavor to keep you apprised of my progress, dear readers, but I can make no promises.  The environment is ominous and I feel old, tired…misunderstood.  I’d hate to become one of those sad old men whose affinity for the good old days prevents him from adapting to change, but I can’t help but feel things were so much simpler just one precious hour ago.  Please tell my family I love them and if it’s not too much trouble, swing by J.B. One Hour Dry Cleaners on Eubank just north of Constitution.  My sweaters have been ready for over an hour.

Addendum:  The shit I’m about to lay on you is absolutely true, so brace yourself.  When I originally composed this post, the Publish button that normally appears in the upper right hand corner of the monitor said “Schedule” instead.  This wasn’t some additional option that WordPress recently added, it was the only option.  So I clicked on it and nothing happened.  My page looked exactly as it did yesterday with some silly shit about iCarly and flannel shirts in the lead article position.  I shrugged this off and took a shower.  When I signed back on, I still found the photo of Miranda Cosgrove and Jennette McCurdy dominating the top of the page and then the clock flipped to 9:06 a.m. (new post-wormhole future Mountain Daylight Time) and the newest post, minus this addendum, materialized.  I just started a load of laundry and I fear that if these bizarre time jumps have an exponential quality to them, my clothes will be clean by next Tuesday.  Which is probably also when this addendum will finally decide to attach itself to the original article.

7 thoughts on “Wormhole In My Bed

    1. Thank you! My dog just reminded me that my seeming time warp was just the onset of Daylight Savings Time and now I feel dumb. She said that she waited this long to remind me because it was amusing to watch me getting hysterical over an imagined sci-fi plot come to life. Now I just have to wrap my mind around the whole talking dog bit.

      Liked by 3 people

  1. Thanks! But I think if I tried to expand this into a book, it would become an infinite project. October would roll around and dropkick me backwards one hour and that would necessitate starting over but in reverse. Ad infinitum.


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