In Denial

I contrived to be impressively forgetful over the last 24 hours. My attendance is required for an 'event' at work which will eat up most of tomorrow morning. It involves a not particularly onerous duty, so that isn't a problem. But it means there will be no Saturday morning lie-in and no possibility of an uninterrupted 3 hours or so to get with with some urgent marking. But somehow, despite being entirely aware of said event for at least a couple of months, late yesterday I'd entirely forgotten that the morning had been wiped out, until I suddenly remembered on going to bed.

And then the duty again dropped entirely out of sight for me this morning, until I glanced at my appointments diary over a cuppa. And, finally, by the early afternoon I was considering what music to play on my 'free' morning when the painful reality once more intruded into my day-dreaming. 

Of course, all this might just be a sign of aging, and I'm okay with that. But part of me suspects the truth is that some part of what passes for my mind these days decided denial was the appropriate strategy in ensuring I wouldn't get overly irritated by thoughts of going into work on a weekend. And, I must say, I commend that part for a job well done.