A Haruki Murakami moment

Where I live, there is a 'metering light' that lets one vehicle onto the highway at a time during rush hour. The drive from my house to the on-ramp is very short, so when I merge into the sea of commuters, I only then feel as though I am really going to work. Sometimes, the guy in front of my goes and then I start to roll forward just slow enough that the red light turns green by the time I move the 10 feet forward and cross the line. I did that today, and I also somewhat purposefully blocked my view of the light with the A-pillar of my car. As I passed by I only could assume that the world had continued on its schedule and it was indeed my appointed time. For all I knew, the world had ceased to function and nobody had to go to work anymore. Did my day really start, or is some version of myself still there waiting?