Today Is Tuesday, Isn’t It?
TO THE BEST OF MY KNOWLEDGE and belief today is Tuesday. Yesterday was Monday and all signs indicate that tomorrow will be Wednesday. OK, I think I’m getting down with this seven days in a week business.
Now, I understand that having trouble with the whole concept of “week” might be of concern and indicative of a more serious and underlying condition, but not with me and not now.
Let me explain.
This past few days has been exceptional, but not in a good way. We drove up to Chicago and back (approx. 410 miles round trip); we went there for a funeral service and got out of town just before a major blizzard blasted through.
On the way home we needed to stop and buy some bread for Sunday’s church services. My wife, the minister, did not appreciate my suggestion of doing communion with a bag of Fritos and a Dr. Pepper. Given the weather predictions we knew that the local Kroger supermarket in Terre Haute was not likely to have much left. So, we kept our eyes peeled and actually saw a sign for a Panera Bread shop and made a short, but successful, side trip.
It rained most of the way home – not a fun drive.
On Sunday there were a couple of church services and a quick stop at the Deli to try to get something yumilicious for dinner.
And then there was the Super Bowl.
I didn’t have a dog in that hunt, but I still watched the game (after an unscheduled nap in the Rip Van Winkle Memorial Chair.). It was a good game, but I did have to fight nodding off. The Halftime Super Show was better than most of the shows in years past. I’m just glad there were no “wardrobe malfunctions.” People could have died.
I do have to admit that part of the reason I fought to stay awake through the entire game was so that I wouldn’t miss the season premier of “Black List.” It plays like a rock ‘em, sock ‘em thriller come to life. It wasn’t more than 15 minutes into the show until the “Hero” calmly executed a bad guy. You don’t see that on “Dancing With the Stars” (unfortunately).
Given all of that activity on Sunday I didn’t get to bed until midnight and although I spent many years working in clubs that didn’t close until 2:30 AM, I can’t do that no mo’.
I’m tired, wiped out, zonked, fogged over, nestled in the arms of Morpheus, non-jet but still lagged, pooped and otherwise not the guy you want to have struggling to defuse a bomb.
That is why I’m not all that secure on what day it is. I’m taking my loving wife’s word on it, but then again, she has been on the same time journey that I have. So, if today is NOT Tuesday please cut me some slack – and do so quietly because I’m going to try to catch a nap.