The Pop And Push Of Coffee Cups

There are many strange things which only seem strange when they result in something that is out of the ordinary. There must be a specific flag in my mind which remembers exactly how full the last coffee cup is. I always seem to know exactly how much coffee is in that last cup and bubbles along as an interrupt letting me know that it is available. So it always quite a surprise when that interrupt tells me that the cup is empty and I go to stack it on the other for transport to the bin (Clean desk policy etc) and it has a third of the liquid left. The strange feeling this produces is even worse when I realise that it is still warm. It seems to me like some sort of mini version of the loss of time reported by supposed UFO abductees. It must just be down to extreme busyness which fills the memory stack as it were and removes the interrupt. This must be filed under things that could only possibly interest me mustn't it though it all ties back with my Random-ish Sunday assertion about memory being filled with small thoughts that come and go like the creation/destruction of matter/anti-matter particles in empty space, only remaining in existence when something big sucks one of the pair away leaving the other on its own and detectable. I think this is Hawking Radiation but some scary equations stop me from reading the article beyond the first few paragraphs.