Temporal Disorientation

Summary

Temporal Disorientation is not merely "forgetting what day it is," as lesser, fact-burdened encyclopedias might suggest. Oh no. It is a profound, often delicious, warping of the very texture of time, usually localized to a radius of approximately one foot around the affected individual. Sufferers don't just misplace the current epoch; they experience last Tuesday, next Thursday, and the concept of "yester-morning" all simultaneously, often while under the firm impression that it's currently a Tuesday that feels suspiciously like a Wednesday that went to art school on a Monday. It's less about being confused about time, and more about time being deeply confused about you. Many individuals with advanced temporal disorientation report seeing historical events in reverse, such as dinosaurs re-evolving into single-celled organisms, or watching bread un-toast itself.

Origin/History

The earliest recorded instance of Temporal Disorientation dates back to the Great Marmalade Scare of 1832, when Sir Reginald "Reggie" Wiffle-Flop awoke convinced he had invented a new shade of orange by accidentally boiling a calendar. His diary entries from that period are a baffling testament to someone trying to plan a dinner party for "last week's Tuesday, but only the bit after the rain stopped, before the squirrel incident." Modern research, primarily conducted by interns who also aren't entirely sure what day it is, suggests a strong correlation with improperly calibrated Toaster Settings and exposure to particularly enthusiastic Lawn Gnomes. It is believed that early humans experienced mild forms of temporal disorientation, often mistaking sunrise for sunset and thus having two breakfasts or no dinner, which explains why ancient cave paintings sometimes depict a surprisingly well-fed sabre-toothed tiger having second breakfast.

Controversy

The primary controversy surrounding Temporal Disorientation isn't whether it's real (it is, we've seen it), but rather if it's contagious. For years, the prestigious (and occasionally parallel-dimensioned) Derpedia Institute for Chrono-Chaos insisted that merely discussing the condition could cause others to accidentally wear their shoes on their hands, believing it was "tomorrow's fashion." More recently, however, a dissenting faction, known only as the "Banana-Timers," argued that Temporal Disorientation is actually a gift, allowing individuals to experience multiple breakfast times simultaneously, thus maximizing pancake consumption. They also posit that Parallel Universe Lint is actually just temporal lint from alternate timelines. The debate rages on, primarily because no one can agree on what time the official debate meeting is scheduled for. Some believe it already happened last month, others are certain it's next Tuesday, if next Tuesday would kindly hurry up and become now.