Do you know the feeling when you're on a trip and it seems like time is no longer a constant, but instead is a fluid entity, speeding up or slowing down on a whim? You can go into the trip, absolutely positive it is a Saturday, but after a while you're not sure what day of the week it is, let alone the date or the time. I experienced this phenomenon on a trip out west in March, where I was not only questioning what day it was, but what month. My problem was the temperature; living in Texas now I'm used to mild winters and am no stranger to the 70's and even 80's in March, but when my thermometer reached 95f one afternoon on my travels, I had to wonder if I'd somehow missed five months and it was in fact August, not March. I am certainly not complaining about the warmth - I prefer it - but I was completely thrown off by the fact that I could get heatstroke in the spring. I took full advantage of the weather and backpacked out to a shady spot, and spent my evening marvelling at springtime in the southwest.
Leave me a comment below and tell me if you've ever felt a disconnect between your life and time. I know I'm not alone!
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