These last two weeks I have found myself in a weird time continuum. My sense of the day of the week has completely escaped me. I just can’t keep them straight. That’s understandable when on vacation, but I’ve been at work this whole time.
Five days last week I woke up thinking it was Friday. Friday wasn’t one of those days, but Saturday was. It didn’t help that Carmen was screaming in my ear that I was late. After my heart stopped racing, and I figured out that my alarm clock was off for a reason, I realized that what that mound of fur was actually telling me was that she was hungry/bored/wanted my nice warm spot.
This week it started up again! I spent all day Monday thinking it was Tuesday. I was corrected several times, but it kept happening. The worst part was after work when I was sitting in the lobby of the auto shop waiting for an oil change, and the television was on ESPN. They were talking about football.
“That’s odd, I thought, Thursday night football is two nights away.”
Unless, of course they are talking about the Monday night game that was about to start in just over an hour!
For someone whose internal time clock is so attuned, how on Earth did my days of the week get so consistently messed up?
Now is it just me, or is it weird that our mind processes the days of the week differently? Am I the only one who says things like “It doesn’t feel like a Thursday”?