Do you know what it means when you look down at your bare foot and wonder why there is an empty banana peel draped carefully across it? When the plastic 20-oz bottle of Coca-Cola on the desk in front of you has only about 3/4 of an inch of liquid left in it, and you're the only person in the house? When somehow the Metallica cd you remember just cranking up a moment or two ago now sounds an awful lot like Rob Thomas? When that apricot-scented votive you picked up on clearance for a quarter last night is now a puddle of peachy wax in your favorite votive holder?
It means you're Hamlette, the Dame, and you've just gotten so involved in the story you were writing, you lost track of a couple hours of your life.