Do you ever have those days where you awake in the middle of the night and can’t quite draw a conclusion as to what day it will be when morning arrives? And then when morning finally arrives and you figure out what day it is, you have to remind yourself all day what day it is? That’s me today.
It’s Friday, Good Friday, in fact; and Isabel has no school today. Terrific! So, I took my rightful adult liberties and stayed up until 1:00am last night. Here is my rationale and the genesis of my “what day is it?” confusion. . . “There is no NEED to wake up with the figurative rooster crowing outside my bedroom window; so stay up and have fun.” Notice the emphasis? That darn rooster didn’t get the memo and at 6:00am we were crying together.
Is today Saturday. . . ? Wait, it’s Friday. . .
I’m so proud of myself. I have been “productive” in the midst of my internal clock crisis, which generates the feeling of bliss as I mark off the items on my to-do list. I made a list that was really going to challenge me today: get up, brush your teeth, shower, make the bed. . . I’ve accomplished my list. I’m a rockstar!
What day is it again?
I left the house at 1:00pm to search for quiet (remember, Isabel is home), primarily to silence the assignments that whisper their deadlines in my ear. Isabel was still in her robe! So not only am I struggling to recall the day, I cannot seem to wrap my head around what time of day it is.
Is it morning. . . ? Wait, it’s afternoon. . .
Now, I realize that right now I am not working on my school assignments, but my blog was also whispering in my ear. This is far more fun than writing a proposal for my English class. I could easily get lost in my writing today. Actually, I think I am lost in my writing trying to keep up with fragmented thoughts that keep circling back to “What day is it?”
And on that harmonic note, I will acknowledge for the record: I started my day confused. I’ve left my readers dazed.
Just another day in the life of me.