dreading the 20th

I have broken two bones in my life on June 20th. Left thumb was jammed in 1993, while left pinkie was crushed in 2005. I've been weary of the first day of summer ever since the second break.

I'm sure it's coincidence, but I find it strange nonetheless.

Dates have meaning only if you remember them. I try to remember days when things happen so to put them into context as a whole. My concentrating on dates started when Justin Hughes disappeared in 1994. I don't remember the last time I saw him, but I remember feeling surreal that he was surely gone but time passed for weeks before his remains were ever found. I had a dream about his funeral before he was found. I had no idea it was his funeral for it was a closed casket, but eerily the dream was quite accurate.

Time is a man-made concept, but yet time finds itself being in mathematical equations that explain things irrelevant to man's existence.

Not sure how it happened, but I haven't accomplished what I wanted in the time I spent away. Maybe I will get to them before July 4th?

Got a Nook HD+ today in the mail. J played with it most of the time seeing that I was busy on the PC trying to catch a game on MLB.tv that was blocked.