My watch decided to give up on keeping track of the month and day for me. Apparently, it found moving every second was easier than that once-every-24-hours move to the next date.
I guess it’s not like I have that many appointments on my agenda that it would kill me to be a little late, but to think about being several days late is still a little odd to my brain. I am occasionally fighting to remind myself that punctuality is just a cultural preference for me and not a character flaw of those who have yet to see its value.
Yesterday, when the electricity went off for the 22nd time in 30 minutes, I said, “You wouldn’t want to lose track of time out here. You may never regain it!” Our car (my usual backup) is so old there is no clock, and I’m guessing our neighbors don’t have watches either. So, you’d probably have to drive a ways to figure out what time it is and by the time you got home, it’d be anybody’s guess again!
So it goes with life in the jungle.