Today feels like Sunday. One of the weird effects of freelancing, for me, is I often lose track of the day. The calendar is such an important part of our lives, we forget that it's just an artificial construct. From our perspective the sun rises and sets in an endless succession of days and nights. There really aren't any Mondays or Fridays, any weeks or months. The calendar is a sort of artificial grid we've laid down over time so we can go about our business in an orderly manner -- well, orderly according to the calendar.

Over the weekend I worked pretty much from the time I got up until I went to bed on a legal project, in order to free up a day to devote to the novel. The weekend felt like the end of a very long week. I totally forgot football season started yesterday. Didn't even check the scores until this morning. (Bills won, yea!) It wasn't Sunday, remember. Today is Sunday. To me.

In the book Virgil and Benjamin are interviewing some folks, in the course of investigating certain strange occurrences. In the book, according to the timeline which had to be adjusted a few days ago, it is a good day to find people at home -- a Sunday.

Come to think of it, maybe that's why it feels like Sunday.