Holy mackerel. It’s Wednesday? How did that happen? Why wasn’t I informed? Who’s in charge around here!?

I’ve been thinking it was Tuesday and feeling like Monday all day. Waking to a lack of toilet paper in the house didn’t help, mind you, since naturally my nose starts running immediately, a cruel fate when all you have is cheap, gritty paper towels, and we won’t even talk about the effects on parts south. I staggered out of the house, saw that everyone had their recycling to the curb, and my brain said “Hmm.” I recalled James was going to be at Arnis practice tonight (Fillipino stick-fighting, his martial art of choice) and that I was planning on working on a logo design today–I was supposed to have a month, but there was a sudden crisis and many apologies, and could I get to it by Wednesday, and having successfully pulled rabbits out of my ass in the past to meet deadlines, people now start to expect it as a regular occurance, never mind the wear and tear on the rabbit and the ass in question, even on days when I’m not reduced to using paper towels for certain vital sanitary functions. All these events, taken as a whole, made the relays tick over in my brain, which tugged the stained sleeve of my consciousness, (which was singing “When The Iceworms Nest Again” rather badly and generally being of no use to anybody) and after snapping its fingers a few times in front of consciousness’s eyes, said “Dude, I think it’s Wednesday.”

Well. So it is.