when i found out who my mom was, early in infant-hood, i was thrilled. cause she's an awesome mom. she's pretty, fun, caring, artistic and a freedom-giver. not much more i could ask for, except for a nose that twitches and makes cool stuff appear out of thin air. which i have, but probably they were closed that day.
but my mom, as awesome as she is, has a serious problem with time. and not in a metaphysical way. she is what i call a "time hyperboliac".
let's say it's 9.15 and i want to order pizza.
i'll say, mom, i wanna order pizza.
she'll say, you know it's 10 o'clock, they don't come so late.
i'll say no, it's 9 (that's how an average joe who wants to have pizza ballparks 9.15. it's common).
she'll say, yeah, it's 9.30.
i'll say no, look at the time, it's 9.15(in an attempt to be true).
she'll say well, it's 9.20.
she has cooked up her own time and i have to bargain with her about it. which is more absurd than ionesco. please! maybe you feel like it's 10 or you would like it to be 10, but if the clock shows 9.15, not even xkcd can prove it's 10.
i wanna put all the clocks in my house to sleep, they must be getting tired.
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