If I had a time machine, I could carve out 32 minutes to post my slice for March 9, 2026. I would sit myself down after a long day and an on-the-way-home yoga class. Between an evening shower and a late dinner, I would find myself a spot at the end of the dining room table and manifest a mundane moment into something memorable.
How cool would it be to have a Time Machine? One that I could park in my driveway and hop in for a ride to fly back and forth along the timeline of the world.
Since I don't have one of that sort, I'll opt for the "Published on" setting that tempts me on the right-hand toolbar of my draft. With the click of a button, I am in my kitchen again. There's music playing and a growing number of bowls and bottles on the table--yellow rice, black beans, taco meat, hot sauce, and avocado. The one doing homework is on his way down the stairs. The one doing the cooking is cueing up plates and utensils.
The minutes tick, tick, tick forward, but with the click of a button, I can shoehorn this slice into a day that didn't actually include this productive moment.
I know, there are ethical considerations to rewriting history. But barring the Butterfly Effect I am setting in motion, I accept the risks of publishing Monday's post on a Saturday.
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