Posted on | January 20, 2013 | 3 Comments
Some kitchen alterations meant we had to move the wall clock.
Now, though, bloody muscle-memory means I never have a clue what time it is as I keep staring, in confusion, at a bare wall. It’s been more than a month and there’s no sign I’ll adjust.
I wear a watch. In every other room I look at my wrist if I want to know the time. That never even occurs to me in the kitchen.