Days and nights grow longer simultaneously when you don't remember what day it is. It's strange having too much and too little to do at the same time. I'm reminded of the day I was packing things into boxes and stuffing them into my car, leaving everything good for something stupid. I've already left, but I'm also afraid of returning to the same place. Things are never quite the same when you return. It's like playing with old toys - so familiar, yet none of it is.