Until a few minutes ago, I was sure it was a Wednesday. My partner and I were finishing lunch. I was reporting to him my feelings around a 'breakthrough' moment I had had in thinking about my book, and had begun to skirt around the subject of what compels me to write.

I mentioned that I dispatch my column because I know I have to. There's a missionary zeal that informs my fulfilling of this obligation. It was then that he asked if I had submitted this week's column. I wondered why I would send it in earlier than required. He then helped me realize it was Thursday already. He himself had only arrived at a recognition of what day of the week it was because my father had sent a Whatsapp forward. We have, indeed, been living in a timeless bubble.