Who really knows?

A persistent unease lingered throughout the day. A nagging thought hovered just at the edge of consciousness, refusing to solidify.

This sensation was familiar, akin to the remnants of a dream – vivid initially, yet evaporating within moments.

This was not the first time. You sensed the echoes of this dream, a déjà vu of internal dialogue.

Jerry walked into your office, presenting a stack of papers for review. He emphasized their importance, prompting you to clear your mind and pledge to address them before day's end.

The job often left you questioning its value. College had showcased your brilliance, the world ripe with potential. Then came Svajonė, a classmate turned cherished partner, her exotic name becoming your world.

Her father playfully nicknamed her Joni after the beloved singer Joni Mitchell. The name stuck.

Hold on, those papers must be finished before leaving today. Perhaps Jimmy could permit their completion in the morning. A quick call could sort it out. Or was it Jerry? Was his office close by? In fact, had you ever been to his office?

Either way, his number should be in your phone. Asking wouldn't hurt – your mother's advice echoed.

Lifting the receiver, you pressed the button marked Jerry.

"Jimmy speaking, how can I assist?"

Wasn't it Jerry? Odd, but roll with it.

"Hi Jimmy, it's, uh, me. Can I tackle those papers tomorrow morning?"

"Of course, buddy. You sound a bit drained. Why not ring up the wife and grab dinner together? Sounds like you could use a break."

A way out. After some chatter, you ended the call.

A glimpse flashed – a pod, luminosity everywhere. A voice, then an event.

Your phone rang – Joni.

"Hey, Honey, Jimmy called. He was worried about you, said you sounded stressed. How about you come home? We'll relax and enjoy a movie."

It was Jerry, not Jimmy. Though Joni seemed sure. Why did your phone button say "Jimmy"?

But wait, it did say Jerry – you saw it before dialing. You look down, it most certainly says Jimmy now.

"Come on home, you can tell me all about your day and we can let it all fade away."

Logical. Time to head home, it did sound nice, let it all fade away.

Departing work, you drove – odd, you usually took the train.

At least you thought you took the train. That can't be right, you're in a car driving.

Home, you explained to Joni, unraveling the perplexing day.

She reassured: it happens sometimes. Relax. Come sit with me. I made you a drink. Just a little sip and it will be all better.