Time after time

A friend of mine is a synesthete, a person with a “neurologically based condition in which stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway leads to automatic, involuntary experiences in a second sensory or cognitive pathway”. What it means in her case is that when she sees or hears a number, she sees a specific color.

To her, four is always blue.

And here I was thinking that I was special for always connecting the number 2 and the letter A.

For some reason, though, my view of the calendar is a bit skewed. I know it’s easy to connect the 12 months of the year to the 12 hours of a clock, but in my brain, the connection isn’t a straightforward “1 for January, 2 for February” one, even though my year does start at noon.

Noon is the New Year’s Eve.

Then we have the spring, and at 3, the summer strikes. It’s all nice and easy, hanging out in the sun, until seven. That’s when the summer’s over, the autumn falls, and the school starts. From 7, I work my way up towards Son’s birthday, around nine, to my birthday, around ten, and to Xmas at about 11.30.

Right now, my mental clock calendar is 7. That also means that the hockey season is about to start.

The Stanley Cup parade at four.

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