where am I!?

Something we all probably despise is trying to calculate at what point, let's call her x, a train leaving Los Angeles heading East (hopefully for the sake of the passengers and would-be rescuers) will meet a bus driving from Savannah, Georgia on a Northwest path. obviously, my first question is:
a) why are you leaving LA? followed shortly thereafter by
b) if you are leaving Savannah, why take the slowest method of transportation possible?
it is obvious to me that this question is flawed in so many ways. and AHA!
c) how do we even know that the train tracks will cross the road the bus is on?
does math not have its theories and principles? I would argue - "Aye! 'tis true." and are not some of these principles based on a higher level of applied mathematics? I think we (I will include you in my successes) can understand that using applied math we are able to compute such things as engineering, shipping and aviation to name a few. we can also use math to figure out why people love LA. but more on that another day...
along comes the exploration of quantum physics. ish. or just a crazy misunderstanding of place and time.

I began my day today as many others preceding it: waking up with a stiff neck and headache from what I refer to as the Hops Effect (often when I drink beer (or, in this case, dinner) and neglect to have a decent amount of water before retiring for the evening, I find that my neck and brain have been warring in some fashion, leaving me as a whole as a true victim of war the next morning. no Purple Heart yet though...), I noticed that it was a bit on the later side of 8am. hmm. Enter the Hamlet Complex: [in Brit speak] to shave or not to shave. that is the question. whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the consequences of arriving late to work, the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles - namely to suck it up and shave to not appear a peasant among men. I chose that latter and made it in to have a productive day. notice, I did not say that I strolled in late, because that would imply a haphazard, nonchalantness for which my humility does not allow.

jump to 530pm. the 'bell' rings, we're dismissed. nice. now I can go study math. I found a weird guy online (I promise, this is the only story I will ever tell with that beginning!) as a math tutor. he's about 60ish, medium build and pure dork. I had a decent session studying the previous week and wanted to cram some more lessons in before the big test. (as an aside, after the first math lesson I didn't save his info and had to look him up online again to schedule for tonight. I did a google search for his name, which registered countless articles about someone else, hopefully, who was a CIA operative convicted of trying to extort $1m+ from the agency. Check out this article in Time for an example. kind of similar to the person named Charles Manson who placed an order at my office a few months ago. a bit strange when that stuff happens. it would be great to be confused with someone slightly well-known and respected so that it's not totally implausible and whereby perks might be bestowed...not sure that the leader of the Manson Family is what I'm looking for though. not to delve into the bizarre macabre of that business too much, but did you know that Dennis Wilson of the Beach Boys and Manson were good friends for a while? not quite what you'd think of as good vibrations...) he was supposed to be at my place between 645-715pm this evening.

when I got home, I was fully occupied with CCCP (see iMyDayster) and talked to a friend for a bit. when I got off the phone, I was already in bed and just wanted to 'relax' for a bit. famous last words. relaxing turned into a very deep slumber - think Ron Livingston's hypnotized character in the popular documentary Office Space. this sleep was that deep. that ended up being the problem.

Suddenly I wake up! Spy Tutor called my cell - in the few seconds it took me to come back from near hibernation and muster a groggy 'hello,' I saw flashes of fear. on my phone the time displayed as 1855. not recognizing the '1' and seeing that it was bright outside, I thought it was 855 in the morning and that I was about to be really f*ing late to work! shit! what happened!? and hey - why am I wearing the same clothes as I was yesterday? and who is this on the phone with me? what is happening? where am I!? these questions raced through my head at the speed at which I hoped to complete the soon-to-come math problems. perhaps even faster. it was one of those weird moments in life where, despite all of the complex faculties with which we are blessed as humans, you can't tell your hand from your ass. aside from the whole opposable thumb thing. when my math studying was completed for the night, I didn't have to wonder why someone would want to leave LA or process any quantum physics. I arose from the same bed on which I rested and continue to hope not to be late for work tomorrow.