I wish I had a word for the feeling cloudy days give me. It's like a heightened awareness, like everyone is in on this colossal joke. Super ironic.

I clocked in at the library at 1:30 pm. But then, I saw that two people were already working, and, checking the schedule, discovered that I was not supposed to come in until 2. I asked the girl manning the desk whether I was supposed to be working, and she came over to look at the schedule. She pointed at my name. "I don't think you're supposed to come in until 2:30."

She said that she had thought she was supposed to leave at 2, but was listed to work until I was to come in, which was in fact 2:30.

"How weird," I said. "Why don't I know my own schedule?"

I told her I'd go do homework in the computer lab, and take over for her whenever she wanted to leave. So I was back to work at 2, still a little mystified over why the schedule next to the time clock was so different from the one in my head.

I was still at work at 3, sitting at the circ desk, when I found it. The lost obligation. My British lit class. The one that runs from 1:30 to 2:20 Monday-Wednesday-Friday, giving me just enough time to get to the library for my 2:30 shift.

I just completely forgot to go to class. Nothing like this has ever happened to me ever. The idea of class just disappeared entirely from my head. Not my roommate walking to her class after lunch with me like she often does, not the peculiar exchange with my coworker, not the posted schedule, nothing came close to reminding me.

I tried to figure out when it vanished. It was there this morning when I saw the neatly printed analysis that was due today sticking out of my folder; it was there when I returned to my room later and switched my American lit textbook for the British one so that I'd have it later. But at some point, maybe when I was drafting a news article on Proposition 8, maybe when I ran to the financial aid office to settle my account before the late fees started accruing, maybe when I dropped off the quizzes I'd had to regrade for my professor because I'd given the students too much leeway, maybe when I, submerged in people, took a deep breath and navigated the caf for lunch—at some point, it just went away.

Today was one of the first cloudy days we've had. Maybe the missing the sun disturbed my sense of time. Or maybe since my morning journalism class was canceled, I may have subconsciously considered "class" as done for the day. I don't know. It's unnerving; I can usually trust my mind to tell me when something needs to be done. I haven't missed a single class period since I've been enrolled here. Clearly, I need a weekend.