Dayzed and Confused

For the last couple of months I've developed a tendency to forget what day it is. Actually, that's not quite right--I feel like I know what day it is, it's just I'm wrong. For instance, I know for a fact it's Tuesday, but I just can't shake the feeling it's Wednesday.

I wonder if this is related to the days getting shorter, or medications fogging my brain more than usual (head is throbbing, ready to split today--first snowfall that hasn't evaporated inside of an hour or two), or the loss of one of my external time-keeping touchstones (visiting Granddad--never had a regular time for a visit, but I was always vaguely aware of how long it was since I'd last seen him.) Or hell, if I'm just getting old.

On the upside, been moving at a decent clip on the screenplay for Big Producer Guy I. So who cares what day it is?

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SLIPPERY SLOPE

Here's a link to Neil Gaiman's defense of people who enjoy creepy things that don't actively harm other people. I made a similar argument awhile back in response to a post by

deireanach, but I suspect more people will be likely to buy it coming from Mr. G.

A