Out of time

Life is like a TARDIS, and right now my life is a bit wibbly-wobbly.
Let me clarify: I’m existing in multiple eras at the same time, and it’s kind of weird to think about.
I’m living in the past (the SCA). I’m working in the present. And I’m writing in the future.
So, depending on the day, I could exist in three different “times” in less than twenty-four hours. For instance, right now I’m doing medieval-era embroidery. Later, I’ll be doing some modern kitchen clean-up and laundry. And spaced throughout the day, as I’m doing these other things, I’ll probably be writing a century or so into the future. Kind of cool, but kind of confusing if you’re not used to it.
Part of the way I deal with my temporal dysplasia is by compartmentalizing. Not the most healthy of psychological mechanisms to use, but it’s one that seems to work for me. When I’m at work, the SCA and my writing are at the back of my mind at best. In the SCA, I’m oblivious to the work aspect of things, and I only write during times when I can pull myself away from the past. When I’m writing, forget the rest of the time stream; I’m in the future of my own creation, and that’s that.
Well, maybe not quite that simple. Sometimes, despite my best efforts, the streams cross. I have sword jewelry that I wear to work. I carry my phone with me at SCA events. And that future? It’s based on tidbits of the present.
I guess the reason that I can’t completely separate things is because time isn’t a straight line, at least not from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint. It’s more of a big ball of wibbly wobbly, timey wimey stuff.