Time. It marches, no matter what we do. We try to control it, measure it and split it up into units, we know it’s silly, yet we do it all anyway. Ah, humanity.
I think I have a less-common way of overtly splitting my time. In all reality, it comes from my friend’s and mine harassment of each other during sleepovers of death:
“Man, I don’t wanna go to school tomorrow.”
“You mean today?”
“…”
I tend to refer to things in “wake-cycles.” “Tomorrow” has essentially been superseded by “the next wake-cycle.” This serves many useful roles. It saves my sanity from the midnight split, as I like to call it, of this wake-cycle into today and yesterday. It also solves the problem of what you say when it is 5 am and you don’t want to say “see you in the morning,” since quite obviously it is already morning. Due to this increase in precision, “wake-cycle” is actually a more accurate term than “tomorrow” as well. It also makes me sound really clever.
That’s it.
