What Day Is It?

palm trees and blue skies with clouds
My view as I write

I have simple criteria for a good vacation: if I lose track of the day of the week, it is a sign of a good vacation. Usually, this begins to happen later in the vacation, but this time, it happened yesterday, a Tuesday. I know now that yesterday was Tuesday but I was completely lost as to what day it was at the time. And it was just our fourth full day of being on vacation.

I woke up in the morning completely uncertain of the day of the week, but I didn’t care all that much. It was windy and rain threatened, but I still managed to get out for my morning walk. After the walk, there was nothing much to do. I did a little writing. I finished reading Dracula by Bram Stoker. And I started reading All About Me by Mel Brooks, which I have been looking forward to for a few weeks now.

Once a year, while down here, Kelly and I head to the outlets and I load up on new clothes. We did that yesterday, and it didn’t feel like a Tuesday to me as we walked through the outlet mall. It felt more like a Sunday. I bought myself 3 new pair of blue jeans, each of which is less blue than the one before it. I also bought three printed t-shirts, which is my favorited attire in these days of Zoom meetings.

I made myself two turkey sandwiches for lunch. I should have made just one, but I’m on vacation and I splurged. I sat out on the lanai (which for reasons I don’t quite understand is called a “Florida room” on the east coast of Florida) eating my sandwiches and hanging out with Mel Brooks. I took my usual lunchtime nap, and then headed to the pool, where the family had gathered despite the “chilly” (for Floridians, I suppose) temperatures in the mid-70s. I watched the kids play in the water. They were the only ones in the water. Indeed the pool area seemed unusually empty. I had forgotten, once again, that it was a Tuesday.

At some point, the “low fuel” light came on in the car. I saw it as the perfect metaphor for being low on beer, so using the low fuel as my excuse, I drove to the local gas station, which doubled as a 7-Eleven, filled the car with gas, and bought a 6-pack of beer. No one in the 7-Eleven (aside from me) wore a mask. Not only had I forgotten the day of the week, I’d forgotten I was in Florida.

I read some more. I wrote some more. I went to Target with Kelly to buy a Roku device for my mother-in-law’s TV so that we could watch movies that we have through all of the services we subscribe to on the TV instead of on small device screens. I ate lasagna for dinner, limiting myself to one serving because of the two sandwiches I’d eaten for lunch.

Kelly and I went for our evening walk. The kids had arranged for a movie night, with tickets and popcorn. I tried to make it through, but all of this vacationing takes its toll on me, and by 8:30 pm, I was ready to go to bed. Not even Mel Brooks could keep me awake, although I wanted him to. I was just too worn out. I fell asleep quickly and slept well.

This morning, the first thing I thought on waking up was: What day is it?

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