Lost in translation

I've lost a month.

I'm not kidding. The record I use to keep track of my finances cuts off at the end of June. My scratch-pad, where I scribble all my "don't forget to" lists? It has a page with "July" written on the top, and nothing else. My wallet is empty of it's normal stack of receipts. Even my desk calendar is still on last month.

And I've just noticed this today.

It's possible that I stumbled onto a party of the Sidhe when travelling through the tangle of backyard that seperates my house from the composter, and during the revels one-twelfth of a drop of dew was allowed to pass across my lips. I've certainly been more spacey than usual. But the_axel hasn't assumed me dead and replaced me with another woman, so that doesn't fit with any of the stories my dad ever told me.

It's also possible that I was abducted by aliens and false memories of my presence were pasted onto my friends and co-workers. If this is in fact the case I would very much appreciate it if my alien captors could continue to paste said false memories onto the people who provide me with a paycheck, 'cause that would save me from having to deal with them. But my bum isn't sore, so I must regretfully assume that isn't the explanation either.

I think maybe I've just been sleepwalking.

For four weeks in a row.