Thursday night I even had weird dreams about not knowing which day it was. In my dream I was at church Saturday night and there were even people there, but I realized it wasn't Saturday so I left in the middle of mass. Then when I got home I felt guilty about leaving in the middle of mass because maybe it was Saturday. So when I woke up on Friday morning I thought it was Saturday.
As much as I dislike having a routine, it seems imperative for me if I want to know what day it is. The only reason I don't like having a routine is because I like to sleep without waking up to an alarm clock. But routine keeps my head in the present, which I obviously need if I even dream about not knowing what day it is.
When we have a long weekend like this, the routine gets interrupted and I keep thinking I've missed an appointment or forgotten something. I go back and forth to the calendar and remind my family of the same thing over and over. I can hardly wait for the weekend to end so I know what day it is again.
You should see me during holidays; I start checking the calendar to see when everyone will be leaving the house again. And summer for me is one long weekend. Although, I really do breathe a sigh of relief when summer begins and I can sleep in for 60 days. Only 8 months, 4 days, 4 hours and 37 minutes left.