Wednesday, 22 February 2012

Strange Times

I do not know where the time has gone these last few days. I’m incredibly busy at work with lots of deadlines and pressure I could do without, but the days just fly by. Time is a funny thing, I know it technically moves at the same speed but how can it seem so fast sometimes and then drag like an eternity at others.

Using a computer is a great example, sometimes you can be surfing the web or on Twit-Face and before you realise it, 3 hours have gone by. Alternatively, you may be preparing a report or a blog post, get writers block and stare at the screen for what feels like three weeks and only 30mins have passed.

Sleep is another good example. Some days you’re out like a light and then you wake up and it only feels like a few minutes since your head hit the pillow. On other nights, you struggle to drift off, wake two or three times through the night, go back to sleep, wake again and its still only 5am.

Actually, that’s me most nights. I’m not sure if I am a closet insomniac who hasn’t got round to admitting it or just one of those people who always have some thoughts in my head. Typically, what I need to do the following day.

One strange thing that happens to me regularly during these intermittent bouts of interrupted sleep is another set of weird numerical coincidences that are uncanny.

I have one of those digital clocks on the bedside table, most people do. I always wake up at times like 1:11, 2:22 in fact 3.33 is an absolute favourite of mine. This is happening more and more often, and I’m not sure if its my own internal body clock that’s doing it on purpose just to freak me out.

There are other times too. I have also been aware of waking at 1:23, 3:45 and 4:56. However, I cannot recall any reverse of those.

I’m not sure if I remember these because they stand out as odd, and simply disregard ‘normal’ times subconsciously when I’m half-asleep. Either that or I’ve become embroiled in a Derren Brown hypnotic experiment where I’m secretly being filmed and one day will end up trying to assassinate Stephen Fry in a theatre after the number 3:33 flashes on a screen.

I did once go to see a hypnotist a few years back. Maybe I didn’t come out of the trance properly. I suppose that might explain why I inadvertently want to dance like a chicken every time Maroon 5 comes on.

Hey, I got the moves like Jagger.

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