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05.22.20: From the so-called desk of…

…Helen.

Once Upon a Time

After being home for so long — I actually have no idea how long it’s been — it has made me think a lot about the concept of time. And the more I think about it, the stranger it seems.

The hours, days, and now months have become one long continuous time loop, giving new meaning to yesterday, today, and tomorrow. No more TGIF, because weekdays and weekends are pretty much the same. And that wonderful feeling of anticipating sleeping in on the weekend doesn’t have quite the same charm it once held. And date night, well it’s just not the same — or more accurately it’s always the same, dinner and a movie… at home.

All of those daily markers that used to bring structure to my life are mostly gone. And since I no longer have young children at home I never have to say, it’s time to get up, or it’s time to eat, to brush your teeth, to take a bath, to put your toys away, to quit whining, or the once dreaded, it’s time for bed. Although on occasion someone in my family just might have reminded me that it’s high time I showered and got dressed, or at least changed my PJs.

The alarm that used to wake me up every morning has been turned off, and is now only used once or twice a week to remind me there’s a meeting I need to attend. And since I get up at all different times, my meals are also all over the map. My breakfast is typically closer to lunchtime, but you never know, it might also be my dinner. On the other hand, happy hour has definitely gotten earlier, but I’ve noticed it does not go well with many breakfast foods, except possibly French toast — but definitely not oatmeal.

I rarely look at the clock anymore, and generally forget to check my calendar. Unfortunately, as a result, there have been an awful lot of very belated birthday and anniversary wishes, and more than a few gifts that arrived after the fact. I’m really hoping when my own birthday rolls around, everyone else is equally disoriented and forgetful, so I can feel less guilt-ridden. In fact, now that I think about it, I am more than happy to abolish all of my future birthday celebrations… just saying.

For me, each day of the week had its own personality. But now that my days are more or less indistinguishable, I’ve spent a lot of time trying to solve a mystery. If every day feels the same, exactly which day of the week would that be. I’ve been trying to analyze this, but still haven’t come to any final conclusions.

Here’s my analysis so far:

Like so many people, I’ve never been a big fan of Mondays. I absolutely love being at Piper, but I’m still bitter about having to get up at 5:45am, hitting the snooze button umpteen times (as if those extra five minutes will make a difference), then being assaulted by my bathroom mirror as I’m faced with the unspeakable dark circles under my eyes. So fortunately, every day does not feel like a Monday.

Then there is Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday, which although slightly different from one another, do feel like kissing cousins. Still there are differences.

Tuesdays are slightly better than Mondays, although the dark circles under the eyes usually continue to taunt me, and the idea of getting up that early again seems downright uncivilized. Tuesday doesn’t get my vote either.

Wednesday, the midpoint of the work week, is often referred to as “hump day.” I understand the concept of climbing up that mountain, and then sliding back down toward the weekend, but I have never bought into this notion, and I’m pretty sure it was invented by some  devious person just trying to put a positive spin on the middle of the week. However, it is really no better than Tuesday, and the hump reference only makes me think of camels. Maybe even camels with dark circles under their eyes. So I’ve ruled out Wednesday as well.

Thursdays are actually pretty cool. Everyone seems more upbeat in anticipation of Friday, which means we’re closer to the weekend. I kind of like the idea that every day is a Thursday, but it’s still inconclusive.

Fridays, of course, have always felt breezier than the other weekdays. Since it is inches away from the weekend, everyone seems to be a bit more cheerful. And knowing that I can sleep late the next day also meant I could stay up late. Those dark circles under my eyes are probably still there, but by Friday my focus is elsewhere, so I stop looking or stop caring. Fridays most definitely have their own unique energy, so no, every day does not feel like a Friday.

We’ve finally reached the weekend, and what once felt totally different from the rest of the week, really doesn’t anymore. Saturdays and Sundays were once for sleeping in, being lazy, seeing friends, eating out, running errands, and shopping. Now they are virtually indistinguishable from every other day of the week, except maybe for the being lazy part. I wish every day felt like a Saturday or a Sunday, but no.

Given all of this I realize that like so many other things in life, there is no real answer to my question. Until further notice, I’m comfortable thinking every day is Thursday, but if someone could please tell me how to get rid of the infernal dark circles under my eyes, I would be eternally grateful.

My ponderings for the week…

  • I’m wondering if time marches on, why does it feel like it’s dragging its feet right now, and will time ever fly again. Only time will tell.
  • I wonder why so many people think we want their advice on how to spend our “free” time. I am currently unavailable to join any online bread-making parties, participate in an Extreme Ironing Zoom competition, or make pickles.
  • I’m wondering if I will ever be able to get up early again. I’ll have to sleep on that.

Foreigner I want to know what day it is.

Quarantine Billie Jean parody.